House Of The Rising Sun
by SilverCrystal029
Summary: AU. When the Legacy Virus not only culls the mutant race but reanimates the remaining population, the world is plunged into the end times. Society as we know it collapses. Both immune, Logan finds an unrecruited Rogue in a dying world. They must fight to survive.
1. Day Zero

They called it "The 6 Second War". It was the last and the only thing mutants won. It only took one, one terrifyingly powerful telepath to undo society as everyone knew it. Because as many knew, the world was not ready. Maybe would never be ready, not like this. See, Charles Xavier had plans. He was going to mentor and train the next generation of mutants to protect the world. Homo sapiens and X-Gene carriers, alike. But, there were some things even the conscientious mutant couldn't plan for, and this was one of them.

She just had too much power. She'd _always_ had too much power, from the second her powers manifested. Charles never told anyone, but she had fried Cerebro when it sensed her. And _only_ her.

He was going to train her, make her ready for the reality bending powers she would grow to possess. But, it all happened too fast. There was no team. There was no dream. He'd barely recruited two other students before the incident happened. Jean's powers took over and she went rogue. She flew over the heart of New York city and unleashed a wave of psychic power so strong, an estimated _million_ humans died. Instantly.

It was one of the single most devastating acts of terrorism ever perpetrated in the history of humans. Man had been man's enemy, but now they would all unite to confront the real menace. Mutants. _Psychics._ The world's militaries were all working together for the first time, ever. Charles' tiny crew, him, Logan, Scott, Jean, and Ororo waited for the military to come for Jean.

But they never did. This alarmed Logan (who had a strong military background in his many years). This meant they had some other measure, some _other_ way they planned to deal with the supposed 'threat'. And, they were a threat now that everyone knew about them. This wasn't good. He knew mutants were in grave danger. All of them, every single one. Banding together didn't matter, now. All other conflicts were deemed unimportant.

But, there was no government invasion of the mansion. No arrests. No detaining.

It all started with an illness. One that should've only affected 'mutants'.

* * *

In the public eye: the Mutant Registration Act was the response to the mutant threat. With unknown technology, mutants would be hunted. Traced. Found. Registered, and then who knew from there. It was the law, official world law. In the shadows, Project Legacy was approved. There was no vote, there were no announcements. Project Legacy was the rapid weaponizing of the X-Gene to eradicate mutants.

Applied to on-going bio warfare research, it was a lethal illness that would only corrupt the DNA sequence of mutants. Humans were to be left unaffected as their competition was culled. It was brilliant. Humanity forgot they once planned to unleash this on _each other_. They had to do it, for New York! Mutants could not be left to grow stronger, more fearsome.

But, humans tampered with something they did not understand. Life. Death. God. Secrets they were never to know. And, some say they were punished dearly for it.

...

The military personnel stood, stone faced in front of the observation window. The mutant they'd captured was strapped to a medical table, struggling weakly against their restraints. There was no use, this was going to be where they died, everyone was sure of that. Still, scared brown eyes looking everywhere, they had to try. Try to survive. That was the nature of a mutant, wasn't it?

The Sergeant nodded and white coated doctors filed in, holding clipboards and syringes. The mutant boy began to whimper as his clammy skin went pale. Already they'd found a way to suppress his powers, ones that could make him invisible. They did not say a word as they stood impassively, plunged the needle into their arm, and stared. Not even fifteen minutes had lapsed before the boy was dead. It went better than lethal injection.

The human subject had no reaction. The perfect weapon had been made. Murmurs sounded amongst them.

"Authorize the rollout, we cannot wait."

"B-But general Stryker, we can't know how-"

"Excuse_ me_, doctor." A soldier growled. "Were_ you_ cleaning up the mess in NY? Oh, didn't think so. This can't wait, we need to attack while we _stil_l can." Only a scientist could understand how extremely reckless this was, but the military didn't care. "We're rolling it in the air and water supply. The situation will take care of itself."

The files were taken to a top clearance room to be authorized, and the order carried out.

It took New York two days to go dark.

* * *

_D-Day, Xavier School For Gifted Youngsters Sept. 9th_

* * *

"Has anyone, like, _seen_ the news today?" Logan heard the youngest valley girl's voice from inside the mansion. They always loafed when he scheduled them for after school training sessions, but he was catching on to them. Nobody had discovered that Scott, Kitty, Kurt, and Evan were mutants but Jean had been expelled. Exposed, likely awaiting detainment. It was no matter, she worked on her powers all day, anyways. Struggling for control.

"Today was like... The worst day _ever_ for like, New York's violence. Lot's of incidences... Forty eight office involved shootings, Mr. Logan..." He rolled his eyes, ignoring his sniffle and stabbing his claws in an apple before everyone assembled. He loved the girl, but he'd grown good at tuning her out.

"_Exactly_ why we need these trainin' sessions, squirt." He called from the kitchen, crossly. "Scott, Jean?_ Hello_? Find Elf and Porcupine, too." He called, munching on the fruit absentmindedly. He hadn't seen Ororo's nephew return after school, not with his own eyes. He didn't smell him either, it was strange. Logan normally felt like his senses were far sharper. He tried not to let it bother him.

"Hello? Is anybody listening?" He growled, starting to get angry at the lack of urgency. He sure wished he didn't always play the bad cop to Charles and Ororo and had some help, the kids were catching on to his affinity for them. Otherwise, they would've been lined up in the Danger Room shaking like they used to. Yes, unless they did something out of pocket he was really harmless. He hated when they caught on. "Guys?"

He heard a strangled cry and dropped the apple, hoping he didn't piss himself before he found the source._ 'Logan,'_ He had never heard the telepath sound this way before, so scared his voice had grown calm. Cold. Resigned. _'My office.. You must...'_ He flew like he had wings, smelling the whole way to see if he could tell what was wrong. Aside from Kitty, none of the other kids had gotten back to him.

"NO," He heard Jean now, and she didn't sound much better than the professor. _'What in the hell is-'_

He burst into the psychic's office to see Ororo laying on the ground, her eyes rolled in the back of her head. His chest squeezed painfully tight. The smell was all over her, Storm was dead. Something had taken her, and swiftly. And, it would come for all of them. Ignoring the obvious, he fell to her side and began frantically pumping on her chest. _"C'mon, 'Ro. C'mon! Don't stop fightin' now-"_ He growled, tears stinging his eyes.

"Logan..." Charles called, failing to get his attention. _"Logan_... It... It _doesn't_..." His fists balled so tight his palms bled and healed, he fearfully faced Charles.

_"Chuck-"_ He looked close to passing out, mobbed with sweat and paler than he should be. "No, what is it?_ I'll get in contact with Muir-_"

"It is_ too late,_ my friend." He answered with a grimace. "Come closer..." Logan only stared at him, too in shock to do much else._ 'It's as I thought...'_ Charles thought. '_My poor, poor friend...'_ "You..."

"Chuck, what's..." He ignored the growing scent of death in the mansion. _"Tell me-"_

"I tried to warn myself." The psychic said quietly. "But, I did not understand... Not until it was too late." Logan shook his head, bracing his shoulders carefully.

"Charles, _what do you-"_

"It's in the water.._. It's in the air._.." Logan jerked back as though he were hot to the touch. The bald man only shook his head, tears glittering behind his eyes. He had agonized over the short message, clearly sent from his future self. But, it'd done nothing. "Logan. You are healing. This virus, made to attack mutants... It will not kill _you_." Was all he said. Logan looked at him and his comrade's body on the floor. _'Not me... But-'_

"What about..." He could tell from the look on his face. _"No, Charles. No god damn it! They can't do this."_

"I am sorry, my friend. Katherine..." He shook his head, feeling weaker with every passing moment. "She may have a chance, her particles... Her_ DNA,_ it is different. Like yours. For the rest of us..." He dipped his head solemnly on interlocked fingers. "There is nothing to be done. Mine and Jean's telepathy can hold it back, but only temporarily. And, still..." He shook his head. '_I'm sorry, all of you...' _

_"I won't accept it."_ Logan snarled, his body overdosing on adrenaline. What was he saying?

"Logan, this is not..." He took a shuddered breath. "This is... This is not the most of your problem-"

_"How can you say that? That my bastard healing factor will make me outlive the genocide of my race!"_ He screamed, his panic rising. His eyes were growing wild and desperate, he'd just let them in. Now what?

"Because, it will do something_ far worse_ to the rest of the population. The news,_ Logan_-" Sputtering, he toppled out of his chair and over onto the ground, shaking violently. Logan roared, crashing to his side.

_"Don't, don't do this..."_ Kitty's scream tore him from the psychic's last moments._ 'She has a chance...'_ He thought numbly, realizing there was nothing he could do for the rest of them. Any of them. It was in the water _and_ the air. Any mutant who'd breathed or drank, took a shower... Just the thought made him feel dizzy, and his mutation might make him outlast them all.

He rose, zeroing in on her voice quickly. "K-Kitty!" He called through cupped hands. He saw Scott fallen on the carpet, a stain of blood gathering where his nose began bleeding. Jean was furiously trying to drag herself to him._ 'No... No, this can't be real. It's a nightmare. It's a trick!'_ It was very real. His heart breaking, his tore himself away to follow.

She was furiously trying to grab Kurt and drag him to the gruff mutant. He'd passed out and he wouldn't wake up. He clenched his teeth together and pulled her gently._ "He's_," His voice cracked. "I'm_ sorry_, Kitty..." Her eyes went wide with shock. He stared at her in her familiar pink cardigan. She was so young, a child. And what had the professor even alluded to, how would he be responsible for her?

"What's_ happening,_ Mr Logan? I'm... I'm scared..." He heaved a sigh.

"The professor tried to warn himself, _but_..." She took in a shocked gasp. "It's targeting_ mutants,_ Kitty. Whatever it was, they released it into the water. _The air._" She looked down at her shaking hands.

"Oh my god,_ am I-"_

"No." He cut in quickly, not even pondering the thought. "The professor thinks_ we're_ different." He continued sadly. "My healing factor, your phasing ability... I dunno..." He sighed. He barely understood himself.

"Where is he, I want-"

"He's gone, Katherine. _I'm sorry._" He hardened his face. "I need you to be _brave,_ okay. I..." He inhaled sharply. "I will take care of them. I need _you_ to make sure every window, _every door_ is shut. Locked. Got it, there's a lot of them." She sniffed and he grabbed her arm. "_Katherine,_" He half growled.

_"Okay,_ okay." He nodded.

"Good girl, then we retreat to the basement. We watch the news." He told her flatly, wondering how he would bury his only friends and family, the only things he cared about.

"M-Mr. Logan?" He looked at her, shaking like a leaf trying not to stare at Kurt. "W-What's happening..._ I m-mean.._. This, all the attacks. D-Do you know?" He clenched his teeth. He knew it was nothing good.

"No. I don't. But, that's what Chuck said we should do." Her gaze dropped to the ground, and she nodded and set off on the daunting task ahead of her.

* * *

_Downtown Manhattan, concurrently_

* * *

Anna Marie entered her home to the sound of yelling. Screeching, more like (Mystique had a tendency of doing that). So, she didn't find herself surprised when she heard it. Ever since she'd been whisked away from Mississippi, this was just what her life was, now. Mystique was no stranger, she'd always been near the skunk haired mutant (with Destiny's permission).

They were the only things close to family she'd ever had. Besides, with her pesky skin condition, who else would've looked after her? She didn't even remember her old family. After she and Cody touched, her dreams of a normal life went out the window. She hadn't been Anna Marie since then, she'd been Rogue. Mystique gave her a decent allowance and kept her fed, indulged in her gothic lifestyle, and transferred her seamlessly into a new school.

So what if she talked about missions and war, whatever. Anna Marie didn't expect finding a better situation as a mutant adolescent. She was southern and she was taught her manners and to count her blessings, which somehow, Mystique was. Usually, the two mutant women tried to hide their scheming and fighting from the girl. School had been uneventful, with over half the student body noticeably absent.

She trudged right past their T.V playing concerning news footage. The kids who had been in school had basically been watching youtube. Teachers seemed too distracted to teach, Rogue had been too apathetic to care. She smoothed out the shiny, pleather material of her skirt and fiddled with the sheer, green over-shirt she always wore.

She didn't feel like refereeing them, today. "What do you mean there is nothin-" Mystique hissed, not bothering to face Rogue as she entered their yellow painted kitchen.

"It is done." Destiny added, shaking slightly. Rogue cocked an eyebrow as she looked at them. "Anna," She continued. Now the girl could see something was wrong, both of them looked pale. Clammy. Mystique's hair was unkempt and Destiny was covered in a sheen of sweat. Mystique only scowled as Rogue rushed to her blind foster mother's side.

_"Mama_? You don't look well." She turned her accusing stare towards the shape shifter, who's head was in her hands. "You shoulda been lookin' after her!" She cried. She looked into the woman's face with worry. _'How long she been sick?'_ She wondered, she did not want to be left with just Raven. The prophetic mutant only sighed, Mystique growing impatient behind her.

"So, there's _nothing_ we can do?" She spoke over Rogue as if she wasn't there, something the girl was used to when it came to Destiny's visions. The visionless woman shook her head.

"No. For us, it is too late." Her blank stare landed on Rogue, who shivered. "But she... Anna Marie, _she_ will..." She blinked and steeled her face. "Rogue, honey. Something's happening." The stripe haired mutant shook her head, she didn't like where this was going. She gasped as Mystique came beside her, looking worse by the second.

"We haven't much time." She said through grit teeth. "She would do better to touch you, touch us_ both_... At least our knowledge can go with _her_, then." Rogue held out gloved hands.

"Whoa, hold on. Ah'm not touchin' _nobod_y!" She declared, but she went silent when Mystique yanked her.

"There is no time, we're dying." She declared, staring hard into Rogue's eyes. "The _world is ending._ But you," Her eyes softened, just a little bit. "Irene says not you. Your mutation is immune, somehow..." She looked at her like she always knew she'd be important. Rogue wrenched a pale wrist free from her adoptive mother, bristling visually.

"Immune to _what_?" She turned to Destiny. "What does she-"

"Just touch me, child." She tried to smile despite the obvious pain she was in. "Hurry. A touch will tell you more than I can." Mystique was already peeling a glove off. She didn't trust the shapeshifter much but she trusted Irene. Reluctantly, Rogue held her hand to her mother's face and imprinted her psyche. She gasped as an influx of visions and memories flooded her.

A tear rolled down her face as she watched it all.

_She saw Jean, her power so awesome it destroyed part of New York. She saw the scientists working furiously to make a weapon to combat mutants. They settled on biological warfare, one that only targets the X-Gene. She covered her face as she realizes what's been done. Destiny, Mystique, she were all dying because they had X-Genes. 'No... No, not me..." Rogue realized. Just her entire race. _

_But then, she saw what Mystique meant. "The world is ending." Death. So much rapid death, death unlike any other the world has ever seen. The virus that killed mutants did much worse to humans, it reanimated them. Just a small part of the brainstem that automates bodily functions. A drive for hunger. To kill. The dead come back and will roam the earth for all time, natural deaths, accidents, violence adding to their numbers every second. _

_The whole world overtaken by the mutated mutant cure. 'N-No...'_

Rogue reared back into Mystique's arms as Destiny slumped on the ground. _"N-NO_! W-What the... Ah don-" Mystique held her wrist taut.

"C'mon, _me_ next." She sighed. "You won't like much of this, but I know my knowledge can keep you alive." She explained, her glare pinched. Rogue had nothing to say after what she'd seen. She allowed the shapeshifter to press their flesh together, years and decades of training, insurgency, fighting, scheming and plotting all flowing into her head. Much of it over her. But, as Rogue saw how many people Mystique had killed, she realized why she was doing this.

_'Ah'm gonna neeed all he help Ah can get, aren't Ah...'_

Mystique slumped to her knees, fighting to stay awake. "That is all we can do for you, now. Go." She urged, sliding to the ground.

"B-But, Ah_ can't_ do this witho-"

"Yes, you can." Mystique found the energy to snap. "I have been training you, Anna. All your life. Little girls did ballet and soccer, _you_ were tactically training. You are surviving this for a _reason_." Blood began to trickle down her blue face to Rogue's horror. "Pony up, girl." Mystique would not get another chance to speak. Rogue stooped beside her, surprised most of all that she didn't want her to die.

"Ah'm screwed." She half sobbed, looking around her. She had thought about the dead returning to life in passing, but she was only goth. And sixteen, not a doomsday prepper. She wiped her face with the back of her arm and tried not to think about Destiny's visions. _'What, now...'_ She jumped when she heard the front door open._ 'Who-'_

Her walk home had been eerily silent, the streets a ghost town. No normal New York suburban hustle.

_"Pennsylvania has declared a state of emergency as protests and riots escalate to violence. New York is not far behind, urging to wait for law enforcement before acting and to obey the citywide curfew..."_ Her heart hammered in her chest as she listened, trying to will herself to investigate the noise. _'If what they released in the air to kill mutants turns them into, into..._' She couldn't finish the thought_. 'It's already happening.'_ For some reason, this virus could not kill her. But it'd killed Destiny and Mystique.

She heard a groan down the hall and froze, the psyches in her head buzzing.

_'Anna, dear...'_ Her eyes stung, Destiny's voice._ 'You need to do something. Fast. I never had visitors.'_ Rogue shut her eyes and tried to ignore it.

_'You need to move.'_ A much more demanding voice sounded._ 'Grab the crowbar under the table and check it out.'_ Rogue steeled her face, as though Mystique could punish her now. _'Go.'_ Trembling, Rogue took a shaky step into into the tackily wallpapered hallway. She heard another shuffle, someone was definitely there.

_'Oh god, please...'_

It was Taryn Fujioka. The popular brunette who hung out with the red head that bombed New York. Rogue was not a fan of her's and the feeling was mutual, so why did she wander into her house? There appeared to be dirt, maybe even blood all over her blue cardigan. Her hair was caked with mud, or vomit, or maybe both as she stood, staring at Rogue with milky eyes.

She was pale, deathly pale. Dark veins sprouted through her skin as she stood there at an unnatural angle. Flesh and gore was missing from her cheek, but it didn't seem to bother her. She looked like she'd been dead for hours. But she wasn't, she was standing right there. In Destiny's house. Rogue froze as Taryn realized she was there. "What the _fuck-"_

The Mystique in her head began shouting._ 'You need to defend yourself. Get your head in the game, raise your weapon.'_ Hesitantly, Rogue obeyed as Taryn began rasping. Groaning. Slowly, her feet stumbled and shuffled towards her. Her hands shaking, she lifted the crowbar and wondered how she'd smash it. Into her ex-classmates head.

_'Rogue,'_ Tears were now falling freely down her face. _'Do it.'_ She thought about how she was normal, beautiful, and always sidled up next to the cute X-Geek from the school Mystique hated. And perfect Jean Grey. They had it all so much easier than her, one of them ruined everything and she was the _only_ one who'd have to live through it. The apocalypse. Why her? Grunting, she leaned into Mystique's ruthless psyche and swung wildly.

She hit the girl's jaw, making a sickening smack. The sound makes Rogue feel faint as blood drips onto Destiny's pristine carpet. This didn't stop her assault. Rogue stared at the cross chain around her neck as she reached for her, snarling. Mouth chomping. It was like every George A. Romero movie she'd every watched.

_'You cannot let them bite or scratch you, Anna!'_ Destiny cried.

_'The head!'_ Mystique added, sounding exasperated. Taryn groaned liked she was hundreds of years old and filled with dust. Black bile dripped from her lips. Screaming, Rogue swung the crowbar again. The edge jammed its way into her temple. Her glossy eyes went blank and she finally went slack, nearly tumbling over Rogue. She stood, holding the shaking, bloody crowbar in her hands.

_'The door, Anna.'_ Mystique hissed._ 'Shut it, lock it.'_ Rogue dumbly obeyed, feeling Mystique forcing her to do so. She shut and locked the door and leaned against it, her mind racing. Her breaths tumbled out painfully hard as she tried to think.

_'You must keep moving.'_ Destiny urged her solemnly.

_'Wipe off the crowbar and keep it. You'll need that, and more. Go upstairs to my room. Now, Rogue.'_ Shaking, Rogue obeyed and tried not to cry lest she get scolded in her own head._ 'I have a gun and uniforms I had made for you. Built in armor, durable, cover up your skin. You cannot let those things touch you, Rogue.'_ She batted at her eyes, completely overwhelmed. Hours ago, she'd been in high school. Now she was among the last of her race, one she barely understood.

"Alright, alright." She forced herself to move around Taryn's body and slipped up the stairs. She'd never seen Mystique's room before, never dreamed to see it. She crept as though Mystique might interrupt her at any moment. She opened the door to a dark room, one Rogue would've similarly decorated. It was modest, not filled with much. Made sense, it seemed she was hardly ever there.

_'My closet, last drawer.'_ She filled in, quieter. Rogue nodded and obeyed, opening the drawer and staring as plush green and black fabrics.

_'This was for me?'_ She thought, wondering if the psyches heard her thoughts as well.

_'The more, the better. You are immune to the virus but... We don't know if you can become one of those.'_ The thought made Rogue short of breath, she'd rather die than become whatever Taryn was. Whatever everyone was about to be. Her normal dress did seem a little flimsy for the perilous journey Rogue was about to take. She stripped quickly and opted for black, sleeveless lycra top with light padding and armor. Dark green pants of the same material and a black cloak with a hood.

_'Now, top drawer.'_ Mystique continued. _'My gun. Take it and the clip, to pack.'_ Rogue swallowed, wondering if she had the balls to even shoot a gun. She decided not to wonder and obeyed, grabbing the weighted weapon tossed among lingerie._ 'Grab more, it's September in Bayville. The temperature will fade, fast. You'll need clothes. Take the black duffel behind the door._' Rogue moved fast, a creeping sense of impending doom pervading her.

_'Now, dear. Non perishables... As many as you can fit and can carry.'_ Destiny told her gently. In all this chaos, she still had to eat. Soon, that would get much harder. Rogue nodded, wondering where she would go when she left there.

_'Taryn proves this area isn't safe...'_ She thought, reflecting grimly on slamming her head with a crowbar. It was tucked awkwardly in a strap on the pants, the gun as well as she rummaged through cabinets, grabbing canned anything at this point. She'd gotten through Taryn, but she couldn't imagine that over and over again. Luckily, Destiny had been a pretty typical adoptive mother and stocked up. Rogue tossed peanut butter, crackers (graham and saltine), and two boxes of cliff bars that she sighted. She shrugged her cloak around her and lifted the bag.

So far, it wasn't too heavy. Now, where did she go?

_'Try heading towards the Charles Xavier school...'_ Mystique chimed in, grudgingly. Rogue's eyebrow arched.

'_But... Won't they b-'_

_'Yeah.'_ Destiny answered sadly. Mystique took a moment to answer and Rogue wondered if her psyches could think independently.

_'But, it's a gated building, a whole mansion. Mutants just die, so...'_ A silence._ 'It's morbid, but I have no better suggestions. If you take care to fortify that place, it could keep you safe for some time. The rest is up to you, daughter. Don't hesitate to lean on us if you need something.'_ Rogue sighed.

_'Always.'_ Destiny chimed in, her voice warmer. Rogue stared out the glass back doors and then at Taryn's body. She wasn't sure she was ready for this.

_'Will Ah ever?'_ Tucking some hair behind her ear, she began to walk. Gripping the crowbar, she decided she wasn't going to stop.


	2. Mercy

Rogue had no idea what to expect. She only had one, loose objective floating around in her head._ Charles Xavier's school._ She had never been there, always been instructed to stay far away. She wasn't looking forward to inhabiting a plantation house filled with the dead bodies of her classmates, but she didn't have any better ideas. Not one, not even sarcastically.

There was an eerie calm outside. Mystique had been right about the September comment. It wasn't cold but the air was getting brisk, the sun setting a little earlier every day. She could hear sirens in the distance, maybe screaming if she listened hard enough. The hood of the cloak dipped past her eyes as she stood, shaking. Hours ago, she never would've worn that outfit in daylight. Now, it didn't matter.

She saw a boy with glasses standing in the street. He looked familiar, definitely a classmate or student of Bayville high. That place must not exist anymore, either, Rogue can't help but think. They lock eyes for a tense moment, but before Rogue can move, or think, or speak, he's mowed down quickly by an SUV not bothering to stop or slow down.

_'Anna.'_ Mystique's voice is impatient, but not as loud as it had been after her absorption. Soon, it might be hard for Rogue to get the counsel she so desperately would need. She stared at his crumpled body in the road, a stain of red following the car. _'You have no idea what's out here. You need to move. And fast.'_ Stifling a sob, Rogue's feet began to move. She ran.

She ran like she did track or ever participated in gym. She kept her eyes straight and and tried not to see anything happening around her. Tried not to hear screams and cries, however few they were_. 'Just keep going','_ She thought, stumbling. Don't stop. This would be the rest of her life if she hoped to survive, always running. The thought makes her heart weigh a hundred pounds as she struggles to keep on.

She blew past the school, praying the kids who stayed after were safe. A baby blue convertible was on fire, sending heat waves down the horizon._ 'What?'_ What had been happening? All the websites, news broadcasts, they all made sense. She ran past a corner store she used grab coffees and snacks from before school. The windows and glass doors had been broken, apparently already looted.

_'You should make sure there aren't supplies you can take.'_ Destiny's voice chimed softly in her head.

_'Yes, look. Ditch the crowbar and take that wrench, on the register.'_ Rogue turned and sighted the tool. She moved numbly and dropped the crowbar, obeying the words quickly. She slugged the duffel off her shoulder and raided all the jerky and fruit leather she saw. Crackers and more cliff bars, too. She froze when she heard a shuffle and a groan.

_'Okay,_' Mystique snapped._ 'Time to go, it'll be dark soon. You shouldn't be out there, then.' R_ogue swallowed, feeling her mouth go dry at the thought. Even the suburban parts of New York were packed wall to wall in New York. Rogue didn't want to think of the transfer rate, or how the hellish curse was transferred. It made her short of breath and she needed her breath, right now.

She pumped her legs, thankful now for Mystique's clandestine training and conditioning. Rogue was in above average shape, it might determine her survival. She ducked quickly out of the store and cut down an alley she'd use to avoid crowded streets to school. It was likely to be pretty empty, and that would work to her favor.

She had heard there was supposed to be some curfew, so maybe people knew not to be on the streets._ 'God, Ah sure hope...'_ She thought. She had the gift of Destiny's sight and she still felt helpless. Other people won't know what's happening until it's already over. _'Like Mystique and Destiny.'_ Only traces of them in her mind remained, and those were cruel jokes.

She jumped when she heard a car horn in the distance, wondering if there'd even be a way into the school. Night had all but fallen when she struggled to the massive gates. There was certainly no way she was getting over that fence, but that was the least of her problems. She saw several police cars were abandoned or flipped by the curb.

Officers had wandered from the wreckage and were stumbling towards any hint of warm flesh. Normal looking people appeared to have joined, a small crowd forming. "Oh _god..._" She breathed, trying not to shake.

'_Scratch this idea.'_ Mystique declared, trying to will Rogue's attention to the truck. There was a truck out front. _'Get under that tarp. Now.'_ Rogue looked around, clutching her black hood tight.

_'Who's to say anyone drives it-'_

_'Trust me.'_ Rogue said nothing else, moving swiftly to obey her mother without alerting the infected. She felt like her heart would burst in her chest as she tried to be evasive and fast at the same time. Another terrified student of her school jutted into the road. She was a short haired blonde, another face Rogue couldn't distinguish. But, she tripped and accumulated the attention of the growing horde.

Cursing to herself, Rogue wrapped her fingers around the handle of the massive wrench. Her head almost jolted from the reaction of her mothers.

'_You'll die.'_ Mystique hissed.

_'You already know what you have to do...'_ Destiny continued. Rogue turned when the girl began to scream, the dead crowding her. Her stomach dropped ten stories and she almost heaved. She couldn't let her get devoured so she could be safe. That was horrible. Insane. How would live with herself?

_'You'll live.'_ Mystique pressed, feeling her disgust. _'There was barely room in the old world for compassion, what do you think of it now?'_ Rogue shut her eyes tight, wishing there wasn't sense in their cruel words. It might as well have been murder, but the sun's rays were fading. And fast. Rogue adjusted Mystique's duffle, tears stinging her eye. What other choice did she have?

Her teeth clenched, she dashed for the red truck and wasted no time concealing herself and her bag under the tarp. She sat there in the dark, hoping the dead didn't see her. All she could do was listen to the sounds of the girl get torn apart, sure she was wondering why her and not Rogue. '_Because, I'm not normal.'_ She thought bitterly, wishing she could lay in a soft bed and sleep.

_'That is why you will survive, daughter.'_ Rogue jumped when she heard a snarl, somewhere out there. One that was different than the ones of the dead. She heard grunting, slicing. Moans of infected people. She tried not to shake or draw attention to herself under the tarp, there was no way to tell if he was friend or foe. Soon, it grew surprisingly quiet. Then, Rogue heard the truck door open.

_'See.'_ Was all Mystique said.

_'You know I will not urge you to do anything you don't have to do, dear.'_ Destiny followed gently. In the middle of the apocalypse Rogue had almost forgotten her mom could see the future. She stifled a snort, hoping the driver didn't mind the stowaway. But, the ride had barely begun when the tires of the truck screeched. Rogue swore she heard a sniff, and scrambled to pull her cloak around herself.

_'Oh god,'_ She thought._ 'Jesus fuck-'_

The tarp revealed the brisk night air, Rogue laying exposed in the bed of the truck. Logan stared at the child, decked in gear that looked X-Men material. He was streaked in blood, absolutely consumed by it. And grime, and other things she couldn't and wouldn't identify. Her breath caught short as he stared at her with eyes darker than night, his face chillingly impassive.

One of his fists twitched and she shrank back. He exhaled in seeming exasperation, as if the world wasn't ending. He was stocky and handsome, tan skinned and broad shouldered. But, Rogue could see the crazed look in his eye. She didn't see anyone else with him, and the circumstances could drive any sane person mad, maybe even her. She stared, her eyes doe wide as she waited for him to move. Speak. Anything.

His eyes hardened and all he said was one word. _"No._" Rogue's lip jutted out as she tried not to cry. He had every reason not to let a sixteen year old girl tag along with him, and he didn't even know she was a mutant. She sighed as he grabbed her wrist and yanked, forcefully. Rogue was thankful for the thick, durable material of the clothes Mystique had set aside for her.

"Wh-Whoa, wait! _Please,"_ She begged as he tossed her unceremoniously beside him. He refused to meet her stare, a half chewed cigar in his mouth. "Please, jus'... Jus' help me get to safety. Ah-Ah have a gun, and supplie-" Rogue paused when he tossed the black duffel beside her. The hood of her cloak fell back and he glared at the curious white streaks in her hair. She sure didn't seem normal, but that wasn't his business.

_"Not goin' to safety, brat."_ He snarled so venomously, Rogue became certain he was angry at something other than her climbing on his truck. The voices in her head were suspiciously quiet as well. She didn't have much else to say as he turned from her and flicked his cigar to the road. He climbed into the truck and drove off, leaving Rogue standing in shock.

Logan inhaled, thinking about every dead member of the institute. He couldn't protect them, not from this. Not even... He won't even think her name. He can't. He has no idea how to live, how to die. He doesn't need to replace them all with something that will just devastate him, further. He's going to drive into a horde until they tear him apart, taking as many down as he can. On his terms. Not trying to protect something else who's existence was doomed.

He hadn't even made it a few yards away when the truck stopped.

_"Don't stop being who I know you are, Logan." _

When the truck lingered there for a few moments, Rogue realized he intended to let her on. Despite his startling outburst. And, Rogue couldn't have been more relieved. She ran quickly, feeling uncomfortable with how little cars and people were on the road. She jumped in quickly, her heavy bag jostling in her hands. The man wordlessly took the bag and tossed it towards the back, allowing the girl room.

He sighed, doing his best to feign reluctance. He had seen the ugliness outside, and something about the girl spoke to him. Like she had been living on survival mode before this. They sat in a silence, knowing better than to speak. When the girl shivered he finally broke the silence. "Don't even care where we're goin'?" He asked, his tone compensating for his cruel outburst earlier.

He reached back and grabbed a thick, musty fur blanket for her and handed it wordlessly. Rogue graciously accepted, the blanket helping her nerves, slightly. She ignored the growing dead wandering the streets on sidewalks outside, people screaming and fleeing for their lives. "Does it _matter?_" She asked, looking at him beneath a mask of simultaneously pasty and dark makeup.

Logan eyed her for a second before turning his gaze back to the road. "Dunno, might not. What's your name, kid?" There's no point, but he can't help but wonder how Kitty or Jean would've gotten on with such an outlier to their views of life. He notices her body language become stiff. She doesn't want him to think she's weird, or find out that she has powers.

"_Ro-,_ Marie. Anna Marie." She told him through clenched teeth. She gave him an uncertain look from under silver bangs. "But everyone... Everyone called me Rogue. Moved a lot..." She mumbled. Logan nodded, not passing any judgement with his facial expressions.

"Logan." He said after a while. She nodded, he kind of looked like a Logan. "Gonna be honest kid," He sighed, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort. "Before I caught you, I was driving to the most populated part of the city to take what I could down. And, myself. _Everyone,"_ She saw his grip tighten on the steering, the veins jutting in his arms. "Everyone else is gone." Rogue dipped her head. She never had much, but now she had nothing. "Best plan I can think of is fight our way to the border. I have lots of Canadian land." He tossed a look at her to gauge her reaction.

He found himself almost unnerved by how even she seemed. He could smell fear toiling off her, but far less than he'd have imagined. "Wilderness, sparsely populated. I've got military and special OPs training. What we are looking at..." His face grew grim. "That's best case scenario." Rogue shuffled in her seat, her eyes at the window staring at looted buildings, abandoned cars... "It's not gonna be pretty, not easy either. We... May die before we ever get there." Rogue steeled her face. She was used to the bitter truth from Mystique, so unlike others she could take it.

After she steadied her breathing, she nodded. Logan nodded, mentally applauding her coolness. Crying and blubbering wouldn't help anything, but it would be well within her right to at her age. She was an unusually tough cookie, ironically only making him want to protect her more. "But as long as we're together, I will try to keep you safe." Rogue could already tell the man didn't mince words or say things he didn't mean. She nodded, her eyes locked on him. "Can I ask ya somethin', though?" Her eyebrow arched.

Her? She was a high school student. He had said few words but she'd bet his life was a lot more interesting. "Sure." He can't fight the smirk.

"You_ born_ like that, or you dye it?" He was relieved when she smirked, too.

"You think Ah'd do this on_ purpose?_" She crossed her arms and lifted her nose haughtily. "Not to say Ah don't _pull it off..._" Logan chuckled. Maybe the girl would be alright.

"Whatever you say, _Stripes."_ He grinned when he saw her expression was one of disgust.

"Oh, do Ah get to give you a nickname? Like Whiskers?" Her annoyed expression faded when the man barked out a laugh.

"Sure, don't think it matters now." He told her, surveying the mounting destruction around them. He knew what was coming next. Soon, getting anywhere by car would be impossible. Checkpoints and borders overflowing with displaced people and the dead. The power would go, next. The chaos they saw now would not compare for what was to come. He wasn't sure how to tell a kid that, and somehow, he figured she already knew.

The ride eventually grew quiet. Logan was purposefully avoiding big and familiar roads. They would be littered with fleeing people, trapped people, and the reanimated. He'd seen the footage in other states and other burrows. He purposefully drove by any hospitals or police stations he could think of, seeing if there were any resources of rescue efforts to get the girl to.

The hospitals were the worst he'd seen. Endless cycles of life and death, whatever this was was related to death. And it seemed they were the first areas run down. Police and military were openly firing into crowds, infected or not. The dead and corpses, some with surgery incisions, crawled from the hospital building. Helicopters laid flaming and crashed, reanimated pilots trying to claw their way out.

By the time he passed the second one Rogue's head was tucked into her knees, begging her prying eyes to stop seeking stimulation. Logan didn't even know what time it was, how much gas he had left, where they were._ 'She don't have a healin' factor like me. She's gotta eat and rest.'_ He thought, realizing rest and eating were largely optional thanks to his mutations.

He reached into his glove compartment and grabbed a pristine peach. He nudged her her cautiously, already aware that she did not seem to like close contact. "Here," He offered and she graciously accepted. She bit into it and savored the juice dripping down her chin. She'd been far too anxious to think about eating any of the things she'd packed. "I'm lookin' for a place that's safe enough to crash." He explained, his stare serious. "We have to worry about the roamers, but also about people. I may not look it, but I been around a while. Man is gonna be the biggest danger out here, and it won't take long."

Rogue nodded solemnly, imagining how crazy things would get when it was hard to eat. Did she desire to live that much? She was beginning to wonder. When they passed by a diner close to a rest stop, a lightbulb went on over both their heads. He can see her pleading look already. "Gotta scout, first." He answered patiently, pulling close beside the restaurant.

He turned to her seriously before draping the fur over her. "Stay in here, under the blanket, with the doors locked. Don't come out for anything, Rogue." He can see questions lingering on her face. He pulled the keys out and gave them to her, god forbid anyone tried to hop in and steal the car with her. "If I take too long, take the truck and go." She shook her head as the blanket covered her and she heard the door shut.

It was only a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity to Rogue as she waited for him. What if he never came back? What if someone else approached the truck? She fought the urge to peek, knowing listening will go a long way with him. She jumped when the door opened.

"It's me," He told her softly. "This is secluded enough to stay for at least the night, ought to be something I can chef up in there, too." He grabbed her bag and his brown one and slung them over his shoulder.

"There's nobody in there?" She asked, remembering bludgeoning Taryn's jaw.

"Checked three times, it's a pretty small building." He answered in amusement. He watched as she entered, checking the horizon and all around them for any movements. He followed after and shut the door, moving two tables quickly to block the doors. Rogue watched silently as he drew all the blinds and blocked the back door as well.

He tore down the curtains and offered them to the teenage girl. She would've never guessed he'd threatened to leave her the way he was acting now. She decided she could forget that moment if he did. "Hopefully, this will make something bed adjacent." She watched him light a few candles and set them on the counter. "I'll see what I can work with in here." He called, heading towards the kitchen.

"Where will you sleep?" She felt foolish, but she hoped he wouldn't be far. He chuckled quietly.

"Don't sleep much, you'll see." With that, he doubled back to the kitchen and left Rogue with her thoughts.


	3. The Truth

Rogue fell asleep once she got comfortable underneath his blankets and the curtains. But the smell of a heavenly meat, garlic, and something starchy woke her. She was just as hungry as she was tired. She hadn't eaten anything since lunch and had ran the second half of the day. And, it was more running than she'd done in a while. Then, spent hours cramped in the truck. Logan must've rewarded people who didn't complain, because dinner smelled like a reward.

She watched, shrouded in various fabrics as he brought a plate absolutely covered in food to her. The scent made the girl's stomach growl to her embarrassment, but the man only smiled. She tried not to stare at the marred, scarred marks between his fingers and knuckles. Maybe after some time, as they continued to know each other. He asked way less questions than she would've expected, and she appreciated that about him already.

She smiled sheepishly and rose to sit at the counter with him. He'd prepared hash browns (which alone were making her mouth water), what looked like an omelette, and a juicy t-bone steak. "Figured steak and eggs sounded appropriate for a diner?" She grinned up at him as she shoveled a bite in her mouth. It tasted even better than it smelled.

"Wow." She answered with her mouth full. He chuckled and waded to his own plate, taking deceptively small bites despite his size. The girl ate like she was growing, ravenous and like she didn't know when the next good meal was coming. Okay, this girl definitely didn't seem to have a normal life before the end. But, Logan knows better than to comment on it. He's glad she's eating, now.

"Tried to cook what was gonna go bad." He explained. "Stashed some utensils, seasonings and salt for curing, and plenty of nonperishables." He watched as she ate, knowing she was still listening intently to his words. He'd never seen anyone born with silver hair, not at her age. But it didn't look old or mature. It just seemed to match her, somehow. She was no ordinary teenager, that was clear. Her discipline was almost military-like. He appreciated it.

There was something he couldn't put his finger on with her, but he liked it. "Did ya leave some? Some stuff, Ah mean?" His head tilted to the side, not sure what she meant. "Lotta folks like us, Ah bet. Need a place like this with a little food." She fiddled with her gloves. He smiled warmly.

"Yeah, I left a little bit. Even cooked up what would've spoiled by morning and wrapped it up incase someone comes in after us. We sure can't eat a kitchen's worth of steaks, but someone else can have a feast." She grinned in relief, nearly managing to clear her plate of the massive helping he assembled for her. He took the plate when it was finished and placed it in a sink.

He watched curiously as she used one of those makeup wipes to cleanse her face of the decoration. She revealed a more normal complexion underneath, freckles, and much greener eyes. He watched her get settled to sleep in all of her clothes, even the cloak. But, he didn't say anything. "Try and get some rest." As if on cue, they both heard a groan outside. "Gotta head out early."

Rogue nodded, remembering that the perilous journey continued. "Sounds good." She answered quietly, her face pensive.

"You already seem good at scavenging." He commented, watching her tie barely shoulder length hair into a ponytail. The humidity and sweat was making it wave, slightly. "Got any medicine?" He had already deduced that post death, regardless meant reanimation. When doctors and pharmacies are a thing of the past, he'll have to keep her healthy.

Rogue rummaged through a backpack beside her. "Some. Mostly over the counter, but..." Logan nodded in approval.

"Good eye." She looked at him (looking different with a much more bare, youthful look) with a quiet anxiety. It seemed to ask "how do we sleep?" They didn't want to ponder whether or not they were surrounded by the dead outside. How could they sleep when they could get in at any moment? "Don't_ worry,_ I'll watch." He promised, settling on a stool at the bar. She only scratched her head.

"But, _you_ gotta sleep." He grimaced in response.

"Not as much as you." She took his word for it, knowing that meant something else other than what he said. He watched her for another moment, eyeing the curiously long gloves she wore. Convenient and interesting for the situation, but curious. He'd never been one to been one to mince words before.

"Can I ask ya somethin' else?" Rogue nodded, surprised herself with how comfortable she was becoming with him.

"Sure." He blinked.

"Please, don't let me offend." He continued. "Why the so many layers, the _gloves?_ Ain't that cold yet. If yer worried I would ever leer or touch you inappropriately, you don't have to. You can... Take the gloves off, when we are in shelter." He seemed almost sad that she seemed to fear him on some subconscious level, maybe all men.

She looked down at the gloves Mystique had made her. He was a gentle man, one her mothers had steered her to. They also seemed to be deliberating in her head.

_'Do it.'_ One of them urged her.

_'Tell him.'_ The other. She peeled back the long glove. Logan wasn't sure what he was expecting, but he saw one, milky arm.

"If Ah... _Uhm,_" She cleared her throat. _"Did'ja._.. Did'ja know about, um people.._. Persons_... With um," her forehead knit in concentration as he watched, closely. "Ah have powers." She finally blurted out. "If Ah were to touch you,_ anyone_... Ah would absorb their memories. Their energies... Their powers. Well, if anyone with powers was _left._"

_'She knows.'_ Logan thought, stunned. '_God, Charles. She's a mutant.'_

"A-Ah'm a mutant, and Ah'm trustin' that you aren't the kind of folk who'd care." She looked away, strangely embarrassed. His face must've been unreadable because she looked terrified when he moved to approach her. She tried not to shrink back and he slowed his approach.

"You can _never_ repeat that, Rogue. If we pass people, _meet_ people." He looked seriously into her eyes. For the first time, he seemed scared. Scared of something. He had enough military training to know any personnel would consider her a way out. "You can never know how they'd take it, what they know. And," He grabbed the wrist of her gloved arm, but gently. "Those who cannot accept that this has happened, that life will _always_ be in spite of this... They will want to make a cure out of you." Silence.

Fear plunged her heart into ice water. She'd never thought about that. She wasn't human. Humans wouldn't care about sacrificing her. They would kill her for a one percent chance to cure this nightmare.

_"Promise me,_ Marie." He urged, his grip shaking. "If the wrong person finds out-"

"Ah'll be careful." She told him, her face serious. He released her and stood with an exhale. He couldn't believe his luck, the odds. Of all the people in New York...

"Okay. It ain't a problem with me, and we'll talk more when we're on the road, alright?" She nodded, suddenly feeling too tired for more words. "So, like I said. Get some sleep."

She was sleepy again with a full belly, and she knew she probably wouldn't be this satisfied again for a long time. And, the monkey was off her back. He knew the truth and he didn't care. She had to take her little victories. She rolled over and was out in minutes, feeling oddly safe despite the world crumbling around them.

She prayed for their safety tomorrow.

* * *

Morning still came in this new world, and it came too soon. Rogue didn't feel well enough rested but she didn't complain when the man roused him. She mused again that he looked like a Logan, moving swiftly and silently to pack everything up. He was like a machine, Rogue had never seen someone who was more efficient. He didn't seem like he'd slept but he didn't seem tired, either. Rogue scrubbed at her face with another makeup wipe and splashed water from a sink.

She glared at her reflection in a mirror, hoping the apocalypse doesn't make her break out. It wasn't even funny in her head. She grabs her bags and stands silently, waiting for instruction. The tiniest bit of sun is breaking through the blinds and he listens, carefully.

"What is-"

"Nothin'." He answered, waving her over. "C'mon. Let's keep goin' towards the border. People might have their eyes on this place." She nodded and moved behind him. He moved the table from the front door and looked around, pulling her out behind him. That's when he froze, that damn sniffle. His senses still weren't as sharp as they should've been.

Two men with guns and dingy clothes had appeared, one with long shaggy hair and the other a beanie. They looked like trouble, someone they'd both avoid if circumstances were different. Rogue shrank behind Logan as he raised an arm. "Just stay behind me," He breathed, watching them both with unflinching eyes. "I gotta kid wi-"

"I'm sorry," The more apologetic, shaggy haired one began. He was shaking, like he'd never held a gun before. Logan knew he could outmaneuver them, but not with Rogue on the line. He cursed to himself. If the girl learned what he was, he didn't want it to be that way. He wasn't used to having his hand forced but he'd adapt. "W-We need your bags... Whatever you have."

They stood in a tense silence, the wind blowing. A car was on fire in the distance.

_"Now."_ The beanie guy added. They only seemed a few years older than Rogue, and he didn't want to gut them. But he_ would._ In a heartbeat. The shaggy kid seemed harmless, the junkie one was the issue. Logan _hated_ junkies, all of them. Never trusted one. They were unpredictable, and as an unpredictable person he couldn't tolerate it.

"You're panicking." Logan bit out quickly. "This went south yesterday evening. There's _plenty_ t-"

"You haven't been anywhere_ fucking populated_, man! You have no idea..." The shaggy one shook his head, his voice shaking.

"The point is, we need all of it._ Now._ Our shit got jacked, and if I hit withdrawl on an empty stomach, I _become_ one of those fucks!" He screamed, the gun waving wildly. Logan's stomach dropped when Rogue whimpered.

"Look, there's stuff inside we didn't ta-" He ushered Rogue back as the self proclaimed junkie pressed forward, an evil in his eyes.

"I don't give a_ fuck_ what happens to the two of you!" He screamed, his face twisted in a red snarl. "All I care about, is whatever the fuck is in that bag. Hand it over." The gun clocked and pointed at Logan. "I'm not sayin' it again." Logan stared, no trace of fear in his eyes.

"You don't want to do this." Was all he said to Rogue's horror. He didn't even flinch.

"W-Wait..." The shaggy haired boy began to feel guilty. What were they doing? What would his mother think? Where what she? He threw his hands to his head, at a loss for what to do.

_"C'mon_, man... He's just trying to take his kid..." The beanie'd man screamed in anger, and Logan looked at them both.

"No, fuck that!" He pointed the gun straight at Logan while Rogue screamed. "And fuck you." He moved the gun a hair and shot, hitting Rogue in the leg. Time stopped, Logan's heart slamming like a war drum.

"NO," Logan turned in disbelief, knowing it didn't matter if they shot him. "_MARIE-"_

"I told you to give us your shit. Now, she's about to become a fucking_ biter._ Don't need it anymore, huh?" The beanie'd man grin widely, his stained and broken teeth showing. Rogue had fallen to the ground, clutching her rapidly bleeding thigh. Her mouth was open in a silent gasp, her skin white in shock. She never imagined a junkie shooting her would be the way to go. Mystique was rolling on Destiny's floor.

"Oh man, oh _fuck._.." The shaggier one began moaning, shocked by the sight of all the blood. "What did yo-"

_"Logan,"_ Rogue wheezed, "D-Don't let me... Don't let me _become._." Her lip quivered and she couldn't finish. The thought of struggling her whole life to become a zombie was mind numbing. She'd rather die now, for good.

_"You're gonna be fine, Rogue._" Logan hissed. He was staring at the men with a sinister look in his eye._ "Hang on for one more second."_ He demanded, his voice sounding gravelly._ "Close your eyes, kid._" There was a hint of mirth in his voice that sent a chill down the men's spines. They both began to scream and shout as knives grew from the man's hands. Yes, grew.

Rogue didn't listen and she didn't close her eyes. She didn't know if he was a mutant as well, but he wasn't human. He wasn't normal, just like she wasn't. _"Ya like shootin' and robbin' little girls, do ya?"_ The shaggy haired stoner dropped his weapon, stumbling backwards in shame. The junkie began unloading his clip in Logan in a frenzy to Rogue's shouts.

"NO,"

The bullets and wounds all healed themselves. In a flash, both men were standing and disemboweled. Logan stood in front, still as their blood washed over him. Harming a child was something he would punish the way he always wanted in the new world. He retracted the weapons and turned to Rogue quickly. She was still hissing in pain, surprised by how fast it'd ended.

"Look, I'm sorry for what's about to be in your head." He told her as her vision blurred. "But you're gonna be_ alright." 'I'll protect you, in only the way I can.'_ He pressed his bare hand to her face despite how wide her eyes were. Rapid memories, what felt like hundreds of years flooded her mind. All she could do was gasp, her back arching involuntarily as she lived through his life.

Logan gasped to when he felt the stinging sensation. He needed her to heal, but not get too incapacitated. When the blood began to disappear he pulled away, his hand shaking.

Seconds later, it was as if Rogue's skin had been shaved off. Peeled back, revealing sinew and muscle. What the scientists so desperately wanted. Then the scalding. The burning hotter than the fires of hell. The pain that never ended. She started to scream and he pressed the girl close to him, desperate not to alert anyone else.

"I _know,"_ He sighed. "I know. C'mon, we gotta get everything in the truck." He gripped her head tight and stared into her eyes, managing to quell the wild look in them. "I know it's confusing and it doesn't make sense. But I'm_ here_, so you don't have to do it alone." She nodded slowly, shaking fiercely in his arms. He more or less pulled her along to the truck with the bags. When he set her inside, he dashed back out for the guns the two losers had.

His head ached dully as he realized they were beginning to move, even though he'd killed them. "_Jesus Christ._.." He didn't imagine he'd see it. He stabbed the weaker of the two in the head, but he left the junkie as he was. He got into the truck and he peeled off, thinking about how two kids had been more dangerous than any of the dead. It was just like he thought, it wouldn't take long for society to disappear.

"Doin' okay?" He asked, rubbing his eye as they continued on the road. Her eyes darted about, but she nodded. "Will they fade? Eventually?" Again she nodded, waiting for her heartbeat to slow. A lot had happened in a short time. "Sorry I had to give you those..." He continued grimly. He and Charles were nowhere close to figuring out his mangled memories.

"Saved my life." She responded, finally speaking. "Thank you." The expression on his face finally softened, and the tension left his body.

"Guess you can tell now... I am a mutant as well." He stared at the road, trying to block out dead families shuffling in the road. "In the honor of transparency, I'll admit I'm from the Charles Xavier school." He began solemnly. He could tell she was listening intently. "Charles was a telepath, and he sensed your mutant signature. We did not get a chance to find you, Jean's... Powers, they kept us from recruiting. But that was his _dream,_ a school... A place for mutants."

Rogue sniffed. "Wish he found me," She grumbled, taking his slightly Canadian accent. "What are the odds we find _each other?"_ He smiled, watching as the sun rose.

"Dunno, darlin'." He answered softly. "But ya got me in your head, guess we stuck with each other, now." Rogue smiled, too. From what she could tell, that wasn't a bad thing.

* * *

_A/N: To anyone who's read, favorited, or __reviewed: thank you from the bottom of my heart!_


	4. Mad Dogs

Rogue lost count of how many hours they spent in the truck. She was starting to feel safer in it. At least there, you could be positive there were no walkers. You can't say that out there, not ever. Not for sure. Logan knew she was tired, but suitable places to stop were getting hard to come by. At least, on the path to Canada. They were coming across more and more blocked roads. By bodies. People, cars. Bombed structures. Every now and then, what remained of the army was firebombing.

Their dangers only grew. Logan was having to try to find the most ass backward way to the place he was most familiar with. A place that might not be reachable by vehicle. Secretly, he was thinking of another plan should Canada fall through. Ironically, it was probably their best bet but only if they could get there. He tossed a look to the girl, quietly trying to find a comfortable position in the seat. He would think of something.

In the mean time, he had better news. Because of his forward thinking and the professor's endless resources there were safe houses scattered throughout the boroughs. Just incase the government found the school and charged them, issued them wanted. They were stocked and off the grid, built and made by Logan himself.

It would at least give them a moment to stop and recharge, the girl would appreciate that. Circling a few times and not seeing dead, he pulled close. He'd done a good job to find a little nestle of secluded in New York. Maybe there weren't reanimated around. He was hesitant to be hopeful, but the sun was high over them. They needed to gas up and she needed a break.

"Gonna sniff around just to be sure." Rogue nodded groggily, falling asleep under the fur blanket as he stalked the perimeter. It was different, here. Everything didn't stink of rot and death, at least not yet. But, he could faintly detect the horde downwind. This rancher he had wouldn't take a beating from a small group. _'Keep it short.'_ He thought, ushering her in.

"What's this?" She asks, looking at the sparsely furnished house. He gravitated straight to a gas canister.

"Check point house." He half mumbled, eyeing the supplies he'd stashed there and feeling good. Rogue cocked and eyebrow at him.

"You one o'those _doomsday_ peppers?" She half laughed. She felt relieved when he smirked at her.

"Not at all, just incase the government ever found out what assets we had at the mansion." He explained. "There woulda been a lot of people lookin' for us, and trust me. When you're my age, nothing surprises or impresses you anymore. Not even this." He stacked some canned vegetable and fruit together in a pile of things to take. "Good thing I tucked away gas, water and food. We can never have enough gas and water, and one day soon food is gonna get hard to come by." He explained, his eyes dark.

Rogue watched him, her face blank but she was listening intently. "These... Things, collect in groups and follow the same sounds and stimuli. The more people die, the more people join the horde. Soon, it's massive. Inevitable. So we keep it moving before that happens." He looks into wide eyes. "I smell one accumulating down wind." She swallowed hard. "We'll rest, refuel, restock. Then, we keep moving. Anywhere else." She nodded slowly, their eyes locked as he grabbed a spare pair of clothes he'd left.

When he found a reddish brown, oversized leather jacket, he hands it to the slight girl. "Already got too many of these." He looked out the window to the position of the sun in the sky. "Be cold before you know it." He told her. She nodded dumbly, examining it. It was deceptively nice, felt expensive too. He struck her at first as a simple man, but he seemed to have his indulgences.

"Ah... Don't know what to say." She told him, running her fingers over the premium leather.

"Nothin'." He shrugged. "Just be warm." She looked up at the broad man.

"Thank you." Rogue reached into the bag on her shoulder and revealed a carton of cigarettes. "Ah dunno why Ah grabbed these to begin with, but..." She held the carton forward and he grabbed it. Marlboros. His favorite brand. His smirk his maybe the most genuine one she's seen.

"Thanks, kid." He tucked them away in the jacket he was wearing. "Gonna chef up what I can and then it's back on the road till nightfall." She steeled her face and nodded firmly. Moving constantly did seem like the safest approach to things. Rogue settled on all the blankets on the ground and tried to stretch her limbs out as much as possible. This devolved into yoga, with her mother in her mind coaching her her to loosen up her core and elongate herself.

The surprisingly good smell of whatever Logan had managed to make caught her attention when she finished. She would've guessed he was an ex-army chef the way he pulled flavor out of processed, canned, and already preserved foods. She was grateful for it, she almost didn't feel like she was eating foraged and looted food.

When it seemed done (all cooked somehow on battery powered grills, stoves, and lamps), she approached the man. There was cooked and seasoned spam, vegetable medleys, and potatoes. Jerky, and fruit leather. Rogue dug in graciously after thanking him, pulling every morsel of nutrients she could from the meal. "We're not even a fourth of the way to the border yet." He reported honestly. "The longer it takes to get there, the harder it's going to be, Rogue. Just want to be upfront with you."

She looked down at her plate through silver bangs. "Ah was actually a foster kid, before all this." She looked up at him. "My... _Moms_ knew Ah was a mutant, too." She decided to leave it at that. "I'm used to tough trips." He nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. He had picked up as much from her. Once they had both eaten some, everything was packed up again. They still had a few hours of daylight and relatively safe traveling.

They had to double back the way they'd already driven and then try north to get to Canada or bail to some states on the right. That was the tentative plan. After an hour Logan was getting road trance and Rogue's joints began to ache again. Only the swerving to avoid the bodies and walkers in the road kept them both alert. Rogue was already beginning to see the horde thing Logan was talking about, shrouded in her cloak. And finding roads to drive on was getting increasingly difficult.

A few times they had to bail because Logan saw other car lights, and other people might've been scarier than roamers. As the sun was setting they passed what seemed to be a military checkpoint. The first they had seen. Logan spied jugs of water and other ration supplies. And, he saw weapons. But his vast knowledge on military procedure told him a lot of things.

The whole coast was likely dark, and with it any and all military commanders. What they'd seen was proof enough. And he didn't trust the quality of the individual soldier organizing their own rescue efforts, not for a second. There were a lot of psychopaths, weak minded boys, men completely unfit for the job sprinkled in with good men like him. Men who were probably dead.

Rogue senses his bristle and is relieved. She doesn't want the military to be the tribe they fall into, she doesn't forsee it ending well. Her mothers agreed. A babyfaced solider approaches the truck and he doesn't like the way they're looking at Rogue. "Well,_ howdy."_ He drawled. Logan stared. "You folks doin' alright? Y_ou_ doin' alright, miss?"

His stare lingered on the adolescent, making sure this man hadn't just snatched her. She only folded her arms. "Yeah, Ah'm safe." The soldier nodded with a smile.

"Good, we're tryin' to set up a checkpoint here. We need anyone, lookin' for a group to join?" Rogue and Logan looked at one another.

"Nah, I think we're okay." He answered uneasily.

"You guys got any supplies?" Both of their temperatures dropped.

"Nah," Rogue spoke first. "We're goin' to look now." He nodded slowly before stepping aside.

"Well, good luck, then." Logan nodded before peeling off, exhaling only when they were out of sight. A horde would be upon them in hours, they didn't stand a chance. Logan kept that to himself and kept putting as much distance between them as he could

"That was freaky." Rogue mumbled, slumping against the window. Logan chuckled.

"Glad you thought so, too." His face darkened though, as he reflected on his own service. How much harm did he inadvertently do? "Really, the military right now..." He shook his head. "There's nobody calling the orders, anymore. There's no nothing. They're a bunch of mad dogs with ammo, and false authority." Rogue nodded in agreement. "We'll do well to avoid them."

"Fully agree, Ah got the heebie jeebies back there." He cursed when he saw the highway they were going to take to Canada at a dead stop. It'd been mere days and thousands had abandoned their cars, leaving their vehicle in hopeless dead lock. They'll be looting those, soon. When they have no choice. The thought makes both of their heads spin. "What now?" She asks, hoping he'd thought of this.

"There's route 84, but no promise on the condition." Rogue didn't say anything, so he assumed permission to make that the plan. "We'll forage some more till dark, then find somewhere small and easy to secure to spend the night." He gesture towards the back with a grin. "I got sleepin' bags from the house." Rogue's face lit up when she imagined they were driving to a good night's sleep.

"Okay," She said. "Sounds good."

* * *

The drive showed them growing collections of dead on the sidewalks and in the streets. Whole families and groups of healthy people, gunned down by the military and their government. Children, dead in the street. Bandits. They did find an armory with plenty of guns and bullets left. Rogue had called what was on Logan's mind. Bullets will be currency in the future, as will medicine, food, and water.

The weapons were more for Rogue to someday learn how to use than him. The virus can't kill him, the grime of the dead had not made him sick. His healing factor covered all of it, he could essentially clear most hordes as long as his factor doesn't burn out. But, heaven forbid it, the girl needs to be proficient with a gun to defend from man _and_ the dead.

He forced her to time herself and work on looting and foraging as well but five times as fast. An armory was not a place they could hang around. Many could've died trying to get there, and others would kill to get there. It was the first time he saw her sweat, but it was a good lesson. Every day they survive, things get more dangerous. Harder. She had to be learning every second. He has to know if something happens, she'll be okay. She'll show somebody else.

She picks up fast and he begins to wonder about her life before this. What was she training for? How well she would've fit in at the institute, would she have been his star pupil? Maybe somewhere, she was. By the time it's dark she's a looting machine, and it's time to let someone else have a turn. The constant anxiety is wearing on them both, she wants to rest somewhere for the night.

"_I know,_ Stripe, I'm lookin' right now." He tried not to be unnerved by the accumulating dead and fires alongside the road as they drove. The distant rumbles in the distance. He caught her almost in a trance, sometimes. Unable to stop the pervading horror how around them. He hoped it didn't mess her up. How could he protect her from this world? It was the world.

Rogue stared out the window under her cloak, spying a motel. Logan sees her hopeful look. "Need a group to take a motel or hotel, Rogue." He told her gently. "Too many places, too many people in there who could've died." She sagged a little, but he was right. That was asking to be eaten. But, she watched his posture as he seemed to see something. "But..."

There was a gas station across the street. Considering the area, pretty tame. Tiny, but plenty of room for them two. And, stocking. He sees her face light up, but there's the possibility somebody's taken it. "We can't take it from someone. We don't want them comin' after us, either." She nodded. "If we have to, we'll eat and camp out in here and I'll stay up and watch. My healing factor makes it okay." Rogue sighed, but she didn't protest more.

She hid under the blanket as Logan went to investigate. She heard his claws cutting through the groans of walkers surrounding them. Then, when it grew quiet, he went inside. After a few moments (after disposing of the biter he killed) he got Rogue. "All clear." He promised, pulling her along. She saw some remnants of blood, but otherwise it seemed a sound place to stay the night.

He wordlessly set out the sleeping bags as Rogue wandered the aisles of the gas station. It had everything. She gleefully packed a bag for her and Logan full of candy bars, cigars, scratch tickets. Lighter, acne wash, toothpaste. Rogue was elated. She knew it was stupid, but when was the next time they'd take a gas station? Logan smirked as he blocked off and locked the door, covered the windows with tape.

When Rogue was satisfied with her hoarding, she brought her spoils to the man. He whistled. "Couldn't have done better." He cracked open a bitter IPA and caught her eyeing it. He wordlessly cracked another and handed it to her. "_Babysit_ it." He growled. "And eat a bigger helpin', tonight. I_ ain't_ takin' care of ya if you're sick." He lied. They both knew he would.

Rogue wouldn't tempt him, though. Not on purpose. She took a dainty sip and wrinkled her nose. A little went a long way. She rose, deciding it was time to ditch the superhero clothes, at least for a little while. "Go freshen up." Logan instructed. "I'll start fixin' something." He told her as she made her way to a surprisingly clean bathroom. She took advantage of the name brand face wash and scrubbed the few days off her face.

She'd never gotten so much sun or time outside before. She reveals a new, clean face. She looks at the array of body washes, deodorants, and lotion and does what she can to freshen up. Days had blended together, outfits and smells didn't matter. She'd been shot in these clothes. The memory makes her shiver, alongside with hundreds of memories that weren't hers.

She hurriedly changed into more casual clothes. She was surprised Logan had never asked about those, but kind of glad. Explaining that Mystique or even he lived in her head was a mouthful.

She tugged on a cropped, tight green hoody, black stretchy leggings, and a black denim vest. She threw her now wavy, sink washed hair in a stubby ponytail and emerged to the smell of another well seasoned, jerky based dish. Logan is shocked at how much younger and casual she looks. The look in her eyes and that dramatic outfit made her look much older.

Now, she looked like the kid she was. Slender, petite, and fragile. It put into perspective how vulnerable she was. "C'mon, let's get some meat on those bones." She stuck her tongue out and accepted her plate, seeing the sleeping bad already set up for her.

"Thanks," She told him between mouthfuls. He just shrugged.

"Seemed tired."


	5. Survivors

_He'd never dug so fast, before. Never with tears streaming down his face. It'd happened so fast. All of the X-Men. All of them, except him and Half-Pint. He rushes away from the upturned earth, inside to meet her in the basement. He has a horrible feeling, for some reason. He knows the professor did not tell hm everything he wanted to. But, he'd said enough. _

_Something bad was happening. Something didn't smell right when he got there. When he arrived to the Danger Room, Kitty was already on the ground. Her right nostril was bleeding. "NO," He screamed, rushing to her side. "NO, goddamn it Katherine. I'm not buryin' anyone else. Ya hear me!" He told her, tears squeezing out of his eyes. "I can't do this without you. Can't go on!" He lamented. _

_She reached a tiny hand towards him and he grabbed it. "Yes you can, I know you can." Kitty said. "Keep being the person I know you are, Logan." _

He awoke in a cold sweat with a scream, his claws flying out rapidly. Rogue froze, the moonlight barely illuminating her. It took him seconds to calm down, retract his weapons. "Sorry," He breathed, hoping the girl didn't trust him less. "Sorry." His eyes darted around. They were safe. The doors were locked and secured, they were safe. Kitty was gone. She had been gone.

"You were dreamin'." She murmured, her face blanched. He wiped his face. He'd meant to explain his dreams to her.

"My memories are fragmented because of the experimentation done to me." He told her slowly. "I was only beginning to sort that out, before..." He trailed off. "My dreams, they can be pretty feral. I react to them, sometimes. Sorry. And, don't ever approach me from my blindspots." He told her seriously. She nodded, swallowing hard. He reached for an unopened water bottle and he handed it to her. Then, he grabbed one for himself.

He wouldn't be sleeping the rest of the night. "Who's Kitty?" Rogue asked in a small voice. He felt a vice grip his chest. He still missed them all, dearly. Every day.

"She was a student of Charles' school." He explained with a grimace. "Student I was closed to." Great, so he figured he sleep-talked, as well. He scrubbed his hand over his face in mild annoyance.

"Sorry, Logan." All the tension sagged from his body. Sure wasn't her fault.

"It's okay, Stripes. We all lost people." He reminded her grimly. Everyone they encountered from now on had lost something, probably a lot. It was a heavy thought. What a world.

"It's... Good to talk about it, Ah think." She told him. "There was a world before. Things before. People before." He nodded in agreement. This was the after

"Try and get some sleep, kid. Up early again." She nodded, not wanting to think about a mob of dead greeting them in the morning. She needed sleep, desperately. But, her mind tended to wander to the dead at night. What would happen if she touched one. What it's like to be one. What's gonna happen to her? It was almost to much to bear.

At least she had a comfortable sleeping bag. It's already better than the blanket arrangement, the blanket just made it better. Logan watched, propped as she covered herself in mounds of blankets. He couldn't blame her. It'd be another night of staying up and listening for anything funky. He was more worried about people wanting to loot.

Nothing dead or alive seemed to bother them.

* * *

Five days of that forage/shelter lifestyle had been studied to a science. Unfortunately, every attempt to get near the Canadian border was a waste of gas, food, and energy. The dead, vehicles, and fallen structures all blocked their way. Logan was beginning to worry there was nothing in Canada left, at all. At worst, no real way there.

But a survivor confirmed the worst. Passing as they scavenged they ran into an Asian American man, a few years older than Rogue. Logan made him promise peace before they let him alone. People were devolving more and more into anarchy by the day. Logan didn't want to, but he was inclined to shoot first and ask later. For Rogue's sake.

He just wanted to get some food, saying his hopes for Canada had been dashed. Rogue stared at him from beneath a black hoody she'd foraged from a clothing store. She'd particularly enjoyed that stop. "No way there?" She questioned, cans filling her arms.

"No way there? More like _nothing_ there. Canada has fallen even faster than we are." He exclaimed from under a dingy, blue trucker hat. "There's still bases here. Better off anywhere else." He pulled his hood up and disappeared outside, Rogue and Logan looking after him.

"Now, what?" She asked as he grabbed some tools.

"Bye, bye land." He sighed. He'd feared Canada had been too gentle for something like this. "We start checkin' out the coast." He decided. Rogue nodded at him, her wavy hair tied in two buns on her head.

"Sounds good to me." She looked down at the assorted items accumulating on the garters of her khaki, cargo pants. Logan had taught her that trick. She had a crowbar, a massive sized wrench, a few knives and frying pan at her back. She never underestimated the use of an item, and Logan loved the way she looked at things. She had a fresh mind, a requirement for the circumstances.

Her arms were already starting to ripple with muscle. Lugging bags, jugs of water, and supplies around was starting to show.

The more they went off together, the less he worried about her. She'd even caught on fast how to take a biter out if they had to. Well, Mystique did. The Mystique in her head. The head was key. Any army knife, stick-like item can do it. Her eyes light up when she spies a case of bullets on the windowsill. "We're doin' well supplies wise, anyways. Something less populated in country could be good."

He watched her wearily. Could be. He knew she needed people. A society. But, how could he trust anyone? The people they saw tried to rob them. It was too big a risk to him, she was all he had. They've been kind of taking their time with this run, too. He's hearing things. "C'mon, we gotta wrap this up and stop talkin' shop." He realizes. Rogue agrees, grabbing her bags and hurrying over to him.

He looks outside before they shoot out to the truck. A scream almost stops them both in their tracks. "Oh my god," Rogue breaths. "_People."_ He grumbles to himself, pulling her along.

"That's not good." He commented, hoping they could get going.

_"Grey!"_ They heard in the distance. Rogue looked at him but he rolled his eyes.

"That means a horde is comin', Rogue. Y'ain't seen one, yet. That's been on purpose." He told her in exasperation.

"We can't just_ leave 'em_." She told him, her eyes big.

"We ain't normal." He reminded her with a growl. "Only way I can help them is by showin' 'em I'm a mutant. What if they have a bad reaction?" Rogue looked behind them.

"Ah think they'd be grateful." She reached for the gun Mystique gave her and opened the truck's door. _"Logan,_" He groaned, he really didn't feel like doing this.

"Fine. It's your funeral..." He shot his claws out, following the cries for help.

What they found wasn't the indomitable horde he described, but a sizeable crowd if you have no ammo_. 'Mystique, Ah need ya.'_ Rogue thought, needed her marksman aim to be of any use.

_'I'm here.'_ She clicked the gun and raised, lining the gun's sight with the heads of the dead. The states of the walkers is considerably worse than the beginning. They just decompose and continue on, casting a fog of death on everything. She fired, her aim dead on and catching the attention of the survivors. One is a gorgeous woman who seems in her early thirties. She's lean, built like a model with great muscle tone.

Logan notices her long brown hair and tanned skin. Her cargo pants have a leg cut off, holstered in a similar way to Rogue. Her cropped jacket was olive denim, and boots brown, her hair tied in a loose braid. Beside her was a strong built man, similar to Logan if he were taller. He immediately reminded Rogue of a cop. Something about the white tee tucked into blue cargo pants.

Also, the way he handles a gun that's clearly out of bullets. Rogue lined up her shot and took out another, to their shock. Logan can't help but smirk. "Buckle up, guys." He warned, holding his claws in front of his face. The woman doesn't seem to know what to make of his ability, but the older man ushered her back. His face is grisled with worn lines. But, he's not unhandsome.

Logan launched himself ferociously at the dead. In minutes, more than half of the horde is dispatched. Seconds more, the area cleared. The horde hadn't been big enough to make much of a sound, and they snuck up on the partners. They stood in silence, all breathing quietly. What, now? Logan shook the grime off his claws and moved near Rogue, watching the strangers' responses.

"Hope this pans out." He told Rogue, watching them intently. They were looking at one another.

"Who_ are_ you?" The man asked, his voice gravelly. Sounded like a Boston accent to Logan. He watched him intently.

"A guy, with this kid. Trying to survive." He looked between them, narrowing light blue eyes from afar.

"That _your_ kid?" He asked, not letting the 'this' go unnoticed.

"No." Logan answered without missing a beat.

"He saved my life, keeps me safe." Rogue cut in, speaking honestly. "He looks out for me." The man didn't speak again. This time, the woman spoke.

"You saved ours." She commented as she caught her breath. She placed her hands on her hips.

"We did." Logan agreed, trying not be tense.

"How did you do that?" The man questioned, his gaze unflinching.

"I'm a mutant. And so is she. If that's an_ issue,"_ His face grew dark. "Let's call it even and we'll be on our way." The two survivors looked at one another, like they'd already seen things.

"Look at them." The woman pressed, looking them up and down. "They are doing okay." Logan and Rogue exchanged a look. If they were doing okay, they'd hate to see the people struggling. "They can defend themselves, they can help fortify the farm. Teach gunpla-"

"You're getting ahead of yourself." The man cautioned her, much the way Logan would Rogue. He held his hand up. "I'm all for adding to the team but it's got be a good fit. We gotta make a safe choice." He looked them over again.

"They should come back, we should_ all_ decide." Logan can't help but think despite the seriousness of the situation how beautiful the nameless woman was. High cheek bones, slender frame. She reminded him of somebody.

"I just don't know, Sun." Rogue cocked an eyebrow.

"All due respect, sir. We helped y'all. Why would we if we were bad people?" Logan nodded, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly.

"Right. And _she_ insisted we did, I'm not too keen of explainin' my mutation." He explained to them in a gruff voice. The pepper haired man folded his arms.

"Okay. Fair enough. Come back and see the farm. If you want,_ that is._" Now, Logan turned to the teenager. His only interest was doing what was best for her. They were doing great on supplies on their own, but was just the two of them enough for her? He really had to wonder, being a tortured fragment of a human being himself. She needed others. Women. Children.

"You wanna do this? Yes or no, it's up to you." She looked into his eyes.

"Let's check it out and decide together if it's a good fit. If not, we just go." He listened carefully to her answer. He turned back to the survivors.

"We leave when we want." He demanded. Grey shrugged.

"Naturally." They both nodded and shared an unspoken agreement.

"Okay. We'll check it out..." He paused, waiting for their names.

"Sun. It's Korean." The woman explained.

"Grey." They nodded.

"Logan."

"Ah go by Rogue." They all shared tense smiles.

"Follow us, it's a few hours east." Rogue shoved her gun in a holster and shared a look with Logan.

"Sounds good."


	6. I'll Make You Want To Leave

They must've followed Sun and Grey for eight hours thanks to the blocked and fallen roads. He didn't think Rogue could bare being in the truck any longer when they finally arrived. He wanted the girl to feel safe, to know that he would do everything in his power to make sure she's okay. But, he didn't want her to think a rescue was coming for them. That there was light at the end of this tunnel. They would survive this world, but the old world wasn't coming back.

He'd seen the efforts unravel at the seams. He knew how this would go down. He watched her as they finally pulled down a winding road. He was amused that even during the apocalypse, the kid managed to find time and makeup to draw her goth face on. He was glad he had someone young with him, there was never a dull moment and it kept him feeling youthful.

"Looks like we're here, Rogue." He told her, watching her face light up. This could be the start of something wonderful for her. He didn't realize how hard the road was on someone without a healing factor. This lifestyle, in general. All the humans looked a little worse for wear, like it'd been weeks and not days since the onset of the virus. Time didn't really matter, though. Not anymore.

She sat up and looked around. Logan was right, the air and soil didn't stink of death, there. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, breathing the fresh air. "Where are we?" She watched as Logan tucked a pistol into the waistband of his dusty jeans. Grey and Sun seemed alright, but they had no idea about the rest of these folks. Rogue swallowed hard and put on an even face.

"Connecticut. New York... Apparently everything west..." He didn't finish the sentence. Rogue could only wonder about Caldecott, Mississippi. About Cody. She nodded, her mind racing with thoughts. "I'll tell ya, kid. You were sleepin', but I _barely_ saw any dead out here." She turned to him in shock, her hair a wavy mess. "They're here. But, it's not like New York... Blocking everything."

She watched as the pair seemed to discuss them some more. "Stay there," The broad chested man ordered. He went to go seek the rest of the group, it seemed. Logan moved closer to Rogue when he sensed how hard her heart was beating. Meeting people in this day and age was already nerve wracking, and they were mutants.

A small crowd formed in front of them, taking the strangers in. Rogue notices first a kind looking boy, his eye fashioned with an eyepatch. She tried not to stare, wondering if it happened Before or After. She spied a girl about her age, too. Normal. Blonde, pretty. Skinny. Weak. Rogue hissed at the Mystique in her head. Nobody still alive was weak. The blonde was standing pretty close to the girl Sun, although they don't look related.

Next another boy her age (lot of kids?), with a similar fashion sense. Tanned skin (Native American*?), shaggy, dark hair. Dark, tight jeans and a Taking Back Sunday shirt. Yes, someone Rogue feels like she'd actually want to be friends with in real life. He appears to have a relative, or Rogue's just blessed. He's a mini-me to a handsome, older, muscular man who looks just like him. But, his eyes are sad.

There's another shifty junky man, he's making Logan's skin crawl. He'll never trust another after what happened. It's suicide to allow anyone as shifty seeming as him in a group with vulnerables. There's a red head who almost reminds him of Jean. Her fiery hair is cropped short, framing a statuesque face well. She holds her head high, he notices. Like she owns the place. In her arms is the tiniest child. Blonde haired, blue eyed.

There was a girl well hidden behind Sun, Logan barely notices her. She does not seem to like attention.

"We need to talk. Out scavenging, Sun and I encountered them." Rogue shrank into her hood as the crowd peered at the strangers. The woman stepped forward and looked out at her group.

"They _saved_ us." They all broke out into hushed murmurs. "We were overwhelmed with walkers and they doubled back to help us." Both Logan and Rogue watched in surprise as the younger blonde approached her worriedly.

"Oh my gosh, I'm so glad you're okay!" She held on to her tight, shaking. "I wouldn't have anyone left if you..." Sun placed a small hand on her head, smiling.

"Cheyenne is my sister." She filled in after a moment._ "Adopted._ Only we made it here." Logan bowed his head.

"But, we need to talk about_ how_ they helped us. Go on," Grey gestured to Logan's growl. "Rip the bandaid off." Rogue watched fearfully as he stepped forward and shot out his claws.

"I'm not like everybody else, here." He began, his voice tense. "I have an X-Gene. I'm a mutant." He looked into startled and confused eyes. He gestured beside him. "So is she. That don't mean anything, especially in this shit world. We're just different. And in the case of your friends," He tossed a look towards Sun and Grey. "Our differences saved their lives." He looked around the farm. Wide, sprawling, pure land. Fairly decent reinforced fences, but they needed work. "Could save yours if you let us stop by this encampment." He shrugged, looking back at Rogue. "Or, we can keep going. Wanted to give her a break, said we'd try."

The survivors burst into hushed whispers.

"Holy _shit,_" The supposed junkie exclaimed. He was having a full blown freakout, his hands on his head and his eyes wide.

"What's your power?" The young emo was staring at her, his eyes fixed on her expertly painted makeup. "The girl?" Rogue dropped her eyes. If they can't take Logan's, can they take hers?

"She's with me, as long as you don't do anything you shouldn't be doing you'll never know." Logan answered hotly, closing the gap between him and her.

"She your daughter?" The eye patch boy spoke. He wasn't old, but he carried himself with a dignity that must be a result of the circumstances. Logan shook his head.

"No. Found her in Bayville, New York. We split together." He only nodded.

"He saved me from a horde and let me come with him. Where he goes, _Ah_ go. An' vice versa." Rogue drawled, her voice shaking. A few heads nodded.

"Tell us your power, gal. Nobody is gonna do nothin'." Grey said, his voice hard but his eyes soft. Rogue turned to Logan and he nodded reassuringly. She plucked a glove off her hand and held her arm up.

"If Ah touch you, make any contact wit' my skin... Ah'll absorb ya. Your memories, your energy. For as long as Ah hold on. Ah don't know why, but Ah can't control it. So, if Ah seem pretty covered..." She covered her hand again. "_That's_ why." The boy nodded, only more intrigued by the girl straight out of a comic book. She even looked the part, crowbars and wrenches gartered to her cargo pants. And Logan, straight out of a western.

There were more murmurs. Generally positive things Logan can pick out, but the junkie. The junkie isn't coming around. "With your powers..." It was the one eyed boy, with sandy hair and freckles splashed across his face. Rogue feels stupid for finding him cute. They're about to find out if they're allowed to join a society or not. No matter how small it was, it mattered. "If you touched someone, could you tell their intentions?"

Logan had never thought of her powers like that. She was the holy grail information retrieval. She still had his memories, sometimes she woke up screaming and crying due to them, to his dismay. With her around, there was nothing that couldn't be known. It was either a threat or an advantage. Rogue squirmed, a little uncomfortable as she tugged on her hoody. "Well, Ah _could._ If... We became a part of this group, and it was to protect it. Ah could touch someone and see. Ah don't look forward to doin' it, though." He nodded, studying her face.

It was already a dangerous world. Everyone had stories of being double crossed or betrayed since the D-Day hit. People were going savage, doing everything in their power to survive. Even Grey seemed to see the value in that. It could help the conundrum of whether or not people should be able to join their group.

"If, we ever had a doctor join. Ex Army, expert marksman... And, something happens to them." The red hair woman looked at Rogue, a black bandana tied around her head. "If you touched them, would you have their knowledge?" Rogue nodded slowly.

"Depends how long Ah hold, but Ah could be able to imprint some information." She nodded, not saying anything else. Sun leaned in and and spoke with the pepper haired man beside her.

"What if there's a bunch_ more_ waiting?!" The beady eyed man spoke, staring at Logan with contempt. "The two of them, t_ogethe_r? Could wipe this farm out and take it for themselves." More hushed murmurs as Logan rolled his eyes. There was always one. "What's stopping them?!"

"Kind of defeats the purpose of searching for society." Logan can't help but comment.

"This is serious!" He exclaimed. "Don't let these... These _people_ come where we sleep." Grey sighed. He didn't seem fond of the fidgety man.

"This is _serious,_ Sean." Sun cut in, almost making Logan crack a smile. Sean reminds her of someone, and they're not fond memories. "He is immune to the virus. He cut through thirty walkers in_ minutes._ And, he looks healthier than us all. He can keep his area and perimeter safe. He can clear future areas if we have to move, all without risk of infection."

"Lil miss dixie over there was quite the shot, too." Grey chimed in to a few more smirks. Rogue feels her cheeks go red as everyone studied her and Logan. "Reckon you two could show some of us about defending ourselves?" Logan shrugged.

"Can always try. Don't like slow learners." He warned. They exchanged a silent look.

"Why don't we give it a shot? You guys got supplies, things to camp on land? Good land?" They both nodded. "How about camp out on property? See how things are, if it's a place or community you want to join. After a couple days, we'll talk about bringing ya inside." Rogue stares at the multi-level, racist plantation house waiting back there. There wasn't nearly enough people to fill it.

A whole room, after sleeping in gas stations... Rogue could cry. Logan nods in agreement, ignoring Sean's complaining.

_"But-"_

"Sounds good to me." Logan retracted his claws and reached a hand out to Grey, which he accepted. The redhead approached them, making the man wistful for a telepath. She held out a hand.

"Welcome. Thanks for helping my friends. I'm Mara, this is my family's farm. For over fifty years..." Logan shook her hand firmly, Rogue following.

"No problem, darlin'. Thanks for allowin' us to rest on your land." He wanted to thank her family, but he'd found it was always best not to ask about family these days. It was never a good story. Sun's hands on her shoulders, she ushered the adolescent girl near the mutants.

"They saved Grey and I's lives." Sun repeated, her eyes on Logan. Cheyenne held a hand out shyly.

"Thank's for helping my sis." She thanked quietly. Logan tipped his hat politely. She sure seemed a lot more innocent and fragile than even Rogue did. He wondered how Sun even left her at all. Next, the two dark eyed boys stood. They positively entranced Rogue. Logan was less than thrilled this camp was filled with young boys. But, better than old men. He did not like Sean.

"Victor," The older of the two spoke. His words are heavy, as his heart seems. He has sharp, striking features and a permanent tan. Long, dark hair down his back. Rogue tries not to stare too long. "Nice to meet you."

"I'm his brother," The younger of the two mumbles. His coal black eyes are fixated on Rogue's fair skin. "Eli." He smirked, making Logan frown. "You look like we would've hung out. Before the world ended, and all?" The wild man cocked an eyebrow.

"Eli..." His brother huffed. Rogue only crossed her arms.

"Yeah, maybe." She fought to hide her blush from Logan when the eyepatch boy approached her.

"Hi, sorry. Didn't catch your name." She smiled. _'Duh, don't think Ah even told anybody.' _She realized in embarrassment.

"Rogue, Ah go by Rogue." She told him, tucking her hair behind her ear. She felt like she'd melt when he grinned at her.

"C. Nice to meet you, Rogue. Welcome." She watched as Grey held the tiny, blonde haired baby in his arms. She couldn't imagine being so helpless in this world. She felt helpless already.

"Is that... His-"

"We found Evelyn." Sun chimed in, her expression sad. "Her family..." Rogue dropped her stare. Same shit, different day. "We all take care of her." Rogue nodded.

"She's lucky y'all found her and not some other people." Rogue marveled at the hulking man being delicate and gentle with her. She'd never thought Logan to be a tender or understanding person, but now she saw through the tough facade. In just a few days. She tried to ignore the man sulking, not pleased with the tolerance being shown to mutants. Not even the end of the world ended the prejudice.

"Are you sure you guys have everything you need to be comfortable out here? Blankets? I'm sorry about this," Mara sighed, her forehead knit. "I just don't want anyone to feel uncomfortable..." Logan held up his hands as he continued to pull blankets and sleeping bags from the truck. Mara can't help but notice the vehicle is jam packed with supplies. Some of which they don't even have.

She keeps her cool, not wanting them to feel scouted in any way. If they choose to stay, they will gain many benefits. Including their supplies and above par foraging skills. She swallows, her mouth going dry as Logan smiled. "Yeah, hun. Was a bit of a camper before all this mess." He looked out into the huddle of people. "Gotta keep your people feelin' safe." He added, hoping she understood he didn't take it personal. "Besides, we have nothing but time."

Logan propped against a tree and watched as Rogue set up her sleeping bag.

They'd survived people, and he'd always thought hell was other people.

* * *

Rogue got to sleep in. Her sense of time had died with all the other vestiges of the old world. But, for the first time since she'd met Logan, he let her sleep in. She awoke certain she was lucid dreaming to escape her hellish life. But, the sun was shining. The air was fresh, not stagnant with death. She even thought she smelled good food in the distance.

But, where was Logan? She hadn't been this far away from him since she found him. The panic rose in her like bile, and he must of sensed it because he appeared on the horizon. Seconds later, he was by her side. "What is it?" He asked, looking around. It made him uneasy how peaceful it was, too. He had to be begged and pried away from her sleeping form.

_"When we made it here, I couldn't stop watching over Cheyenne, either."_ Sun admitted as they took a walk around the farm. Rogue swallowed and took in a deep breath.

"Nothin', sorry. Ah-"

"It's_ okay_." He placed a hand on her shoulder. "Just wanted to let you sleep in, for once. You know you snore, right? Priceless." He laughed when the girl's face went red, her bed head everywhere.

_"Ugh_, do not!" She cried, hoping none of the cute boys around had seen. She was primed to keep complaining when they saw a commotion in the distance. Sun was on the ground.

"Grab a canteen of water." Logan instructed, tearing from the girl's side to help. Both Grey and C were hoisting her up, fussing as she tried to wave them off. "You okay, Sunny?" She snorted at the nickname, nobody had called her that in a long time.

"Yeah, slim. Just tired." She said feebly, watching in surprise as Rogue offered her water.

"We have plenty." She smiled, but ushered the bottle back to Rogue.

"Water's not the problem." Mara sighed, the worry evident on her face. "Sun's_ sick._ I think from my brief stint in nursing school, a kidney infection. That can get really serious if we don't treat it." Anxiety tugged at Logan's stomach. In this world, simple ailments became fatal. Fast.

"Kidney infection?" Logan half snarled at her. "What were you doing_ scavengin_', then?" She only smiled at him.

"Wasn't gonna let Grey or anyone else die looking for_ my_ antibiotics." The woman answered defiantly. He sucked his teeth in annoyance. Grey looked up from the child in his arms.

"Sun just does whatever the fuck she wants, if you haven't noticed." Logan laughed when Rogue's eyes lit up.

"The gas station! There was a purse there!" Saying no more, Rogue jumped to her feet and dashed for the modest camp she and Logan had made for the night. After rifling through her bag, she returned with three bottles in her hand. Logan had told her to be careful about what people saw what supplies they had, but this was a good occasion. "Ah found a couple of suitcases, too. Great for pills." Rogue explained.

Mara lifted one bottle high and examined the label in the sun. "_Yes!_ Amoxicillin!" She opened the bottle and her grin grew. "Almost completely full." She thrust the bottle towards Sun, her face relieved. "What do you w-"

"Just take it." Logan waved, his eyes on the woman's face. "She's a scavenging machine. There's a bit to go around." They stared at her in shock.

"Somethin' like a kidney infection can dehydrate and cause worse illnesses. Just take them!" Rogue insisted, not the least bit interested in bartering. Sun stared at her in shock, wondering why these people had been so kind to her.

"Twice, you've saved me." She commented, clutching the bottle tight.

"Rogue, Logan. Thank you!" Mara pressed. "Twice you haven't hesitated to help us, people you didn't know. You guys can pack up and pick a room. Inside." Rogue's mouth dropped open in shock as everyone else smiled. Everyone besides Sean. He was appalled. "In fact, Rogue I bet you want a shower, don't you?" She swore she saw tears well in the teenager's eyes.

Logan chuckled as Rogue jumped up to get a change of clothes. "You can head in for one whenever you want, Logan." He nodded graciously.

"Thank you, Mara." He tried to wash the anxious feeling in his gut as Rogue followed off after the red haired woman. She needed other women, other girls, _other kids_ around her. She needed a community, who besides the junkie, was very progressive. They were going to sleep inside a house. Drink good milk, fresh eggs. And he can hunt other game for the farm.

Maybe their lives wouldn't be outrunning the dead, cramped in a car, always fearing for their lives. Maybe, it will get better. A groan caught his attention, one necrotic, decaying arm reaching through the fence. Feebly trying to grasp anything to feast on. He swallowed hard, remembering what awaited them outside the walls. He could never forget.

* * *

Rogue stared at her change of clothes laid out on the bed. A white cami, a red and black flannel, and black pants. She just took a shower. A real shower after the world ended. Logan always remarked she had good hygiene all things considered, but now she was _clean_ again. Her hair washed, almost a few shades lighter. She did look like herself again, not a ghostly apparition.

She wiped the fog off her mirror and snickered. _'Maybe now Ah'll pull one of these boys...' S_he thought, mostly sarcastically. Still, she'd never expected eye candy. She turned, crouching when she heard a door creak. The house was old money. Lots of rooms had doors leading to a full bath, then a door leading to _another_ bedroom. It was more a maze than a house, and Rogue had gotten turned around a few times.

Sean appeared, the door shutting behind him. He had scruffy facial hair and shifty, dark eyes. Her heart hammered in her pale chest._ 'Where's Logan?'_ She thought, beginning to panic._ 'Outside, cutting and storing wood for winter.'_ She clued in to the rhythmic cutting she heard outside. "What are you doin'?" She demanded, trying to sound intimidating. She could not mess this up, she had seen it on his face. He was happy.

Not only was this good for her, this is where he wanted to be, too. "I know what you are." Is all he says, his lip twitching with aggression. Or was he jonesing, the Logan in her head suggests. She had plenty of ways to dispatch him, but she did not want to be exiled from this community. And, if she turned her claws or her powers against him, that's what would happen. She's guessing he knows that. "I'm not gonna let you clear this place out for yourself."

Rogue blew on her wet bangs in exasperation. "Why would we-" He moved quickly and he had her damp hair in his fist. Rogue froze, despite the numerous shouts in her head.

"Why would you be able to touch me and take my memories?_ I don't know._" He pushed her down on the bed, hard. She cried out when she felt him drag the smooth metal of a knife against her moist skin. "Mara says we shouldn't have weapons in the farmhouse. But you will _always_ have a weapon!" He feigns like he's gonna cut her, and Rogue starts to cry. Quietly. "I don't care if they want you to stay." Rogue felt like her eyes would burst when he leaned against her, his weight crushing her lungs.

She felt an uncomfortable pressure through her towel, between her legs and she was thankful for her mutation. "I'll make you want to go." He grabbed another fistful of her hair and wrenched, her sob getting caught in her throat. Then he tossed her to the floor like a bag of trash. "Glad we understand each other, kid." Lighting a cigarette, he disappeared just as quickly as he came.

If Logan finds out, he'll kill him. He might have to kill them all because of _her._ She let out a gasp that turned into a wail as she held herself, crying on the floor of the bedroom. The one she picked with the sunflowers. Logan would be able to smell that something happened. There wasn't even anything she could do. Except maybe stay in the room. For good.

She thought about it, her eyes glazing over as she laid there and pretended she had a different life.


	7. Fair

She was avoiding him. She sat in the room for almost _two hours_ post shower. Then, she made a b-line for a pond as soon as she got out. They had spent over a week in closer quarters, never letting the other out of their sights. But, he couldn't help but feel it was something else. He was in her head, she got him more than anybody else ever had. They spent a lot of time in companionable silence.

But, he knew better than to push. Pry. Life had changed a lot and kept changing, maybe she just need space. He watched across the farm grounds as the dark haired boy approached her, something in his hand. He squinted, but he had to let bygones be bygones, he supposed. He would know when a line was crossed and what to do, then.

He forced himself to keep cutting down wood.

Eli approached the pale girl, shyly. She wasn't approachable, but even he noticed she was not herself after the shower. She didn't seem like the talking type, but maybe this face mask he'd looted days ago would brighten her spirits. Wasn't like he needed it, anyways. He stood awkwardly behind her, his dark clothes attracting sunlight.

"I took this a while ago, thought it might be valuable." He said after a painfully long moment. Rogue tried not to glare at him.

"Face mask," She mumbled, her body still vibrating with adrenaline. He placed the package down and sat with her in the grass.

"All, common sense just... flew out of my brain. Everything we needed, I grabbed the opposite." Rogue stared at his shaggy hair, almost her length. But black as night, as his stare. Just like her, she knows he's seen some shit. "Grey wasn't happy about it." He placed his arms on his knees, lazily. "Hope you get some use out of it." Slowly, Rogue reach out and examined the package.

"Not a bad one." She said after a while, the ghost of a smile on her lips.

"I'll cash in my favor later." Rogue scoffed in disgust.

"Whatever."

xxx

When the sun was peeling across the sky, starting to set, Logan knew something was wrong with her. He hadn't seen her for hours, the whole day. Not since her shower. Inwardly, he was panicking because he already knew that had to mean something happened. Something she already knew he'd smell. He was trying to keep his cool, keep the words of the professor close to him. They used to ground him.

This is his only shot. If his suspicions are confirmed, he has to conduct himself like a human being. Not an animal.

When she ignores the dinner bell, he goes for her. The junkie has been scarce, too, and Logan cannot be left with his mind.

"Marie," He calls softly, and he sees her wince. She's sought refuge under a giant oak, sitting beside a book she hadn't opened. "Dinner's been ready, darlin. What's the matter?" He tries to get close to her without crowding, knowing all too well how much he hated it. He watched her deflate further, her scent telling a story she didn't have to.

Her shame, her _fear_ assaulting his nose had his heart rate skyrocketing. But, there was the distinct scent of a male musk on her. Not his own. Too mature for the boy, no. It was one he didn't like. The_ junkie_. His blood ran cold as he looked at her, she _knew_ he knew. "Rogue?" He struggled to keep his composure, to not shoot his claws out and make a whole scene slicing him. But, it was getting harder and harder.

"It's okay, _really_-" She began and he was kneeling at her side. There was an emotion he was struggling to hold back in his eyes.

"Please, just tell me." He begged, a look of resignation on his face that chilled Rogue.

"He," She shut her eyes and refused to do what he wanted her to. "This is what he_ wants_. Us to go away, don't-"

"That junkie do somethin' to you." It wasn't a question, and he'd already picked out the scent. Rogue's lip quivered and he knew the answer. And, he did it hoping the girl would run off and he would leave. His blood rose a hundred degrees, but he struggled to look calm and even for her. She threw her face in her hands and Logan leaned her close, wondering which way he wanted to do this.

"He just wanted to scare me, honest. We can act like-" She rose once the man stood, an impassive look on his face. _"Logan,"_

"He singled you out." His voice was like gravel. "He's gonna continue. We bring this up to the group. They either support us, or we leave. But I_ won't,"_ His voice hitched, a dangerous look in his eye. "I won't let you suffer just because this place feels like where we _should_ be. If someone like this is here, if they back him..." His eye glinted in the sunset. "We do not belong here." He extended his hand and she took it, hesitant. "I'm with you, no matter what." He told her, his voice shaking.

Sun and Mara were talking, but they noticed something was wrong in Logan's gait. In his eyes. And, Sean had been scarce most of the day. That meant he'd been up to no good.

"Logan," Sun called, intercepting his stormy mood. "What's-"

_"Where's Sean_?" He asked, his hands fidgeting. Sun looked at him then the pale girl behind him. A million words cross her face but she said none.

"He do something?" Mara asked, her jaw clenched tight. He hadn't seen anyone react positively to him, yet. Logan suppressed a growl.

"Yeah, I think so." He gestured towards Rogue. "We all need to talk about this." Sun nodded and took off to gather Grey and everyone else. Mara only nodded, her hands on her hips. Groups had weak links, the shifty man had long been theirs. She didn't want to trade up the opportunity for protection and ace scavenging for him. Her farm was all she had left.

The crowd gathered quickly, with Grey finally retrieving Sean from the edge of the farm. Logan struggled with the animal inside of him. Just the sight of him was enough, but he couldn't turn that side of himself on another human. The silver haired man shoved the unkempt guy to the center of the circle. Mara shook her head. He added nothing to the group, but she couldn't abandon him to his death. She regretted it now.

Cheyenne fell in line beside Sun, hiding herself from all the chaos.

"Speak, Logan." Grey demanded gruffly, his dark eyes examining the new comers as well.

"No sense in lyin'." Logan began, darkly. "Scent. Is a part of my mutation." The former drug user went pale. "He's got a pack of crackers in his pocket," Logan pointed at Eli. "You still wear perfume with sandalwood in it." Mara blushed furiously now, it was her mother's signature scent. And, she'd never told anyone there that. "You smoked a coffee cigar, approximately... Two days ago." He looked straight at Grey, who's face didn't crack.

"That's right." He admitted. All eyes went back to Sean.

"Y-You don't believe this smoke and mirrors, do you? They're mutants! They're the other!"

"What did he do to you, young lady?" Grey spoke over him, his eyes locked on the pale girl. Her fists were clenched tightly at her sides.

"He... He came in my room after my shower." Logan's claws unsheathed. "He pushed me on the bed and threatened to _cut_ me..." Logan swallowed a growl, trying not to grin at eventually carving him, regardless of what the others thought. To turn into a walker would be too good for him. "He wanted me and Logan to leave."

Silence. Now, every eye was focused on him. He squirmed, he never liked attention. One of many reasons he got high, to ignore his latent anxiety. "She's _lying!"_ Was all he said. He'd been with this group longer, they should believe him. "They're going to pick us apart, one by one-"

"Sounds an awful lot like what you did to me." All eyes turned to the slender, blonde anchored at Sun's side. There were tears, unshed in her eyes as her adopted sister leaned down.

_"Chey,_" She cupped her face with shaking hands. "What are you saying?" Now, Logan let out a cruel, throaty chuckle.

"Oh, so you got a _pattern?_" He growled, using every bit of training the professor gave him to hold back. "Grey," The man sighed. "What do you think we need to do?" Sun had already pulled a weapon, a slender sword Logan can tell she handled before the apocalypse. And, she's ready to cut Sean with it.

"Bastard,_ naneun nega insaeng-eul huhoehage mandeulgeoya!_" She hissed, coming forward before Cheyenne and Victor held her back. The older man, the planes of his face hard, weathered lines deferred to the one eyed boy beside him. Wherever Grey was, C was sure to follow. It was clear he looked up to him, even with the onset of this mess barely being a week ago.

"Maybe, we could just force him off the farm. Fend for himself, basically a death sentence..." The younger boy reasoned. He didn't want to believe that the circumstances of the world meant being hard. Death on top of death. But, Grey dealt with the law before hand. And he'd lived a long, unfair life. He knew better.

"He will die a coward, or infect some other group." The man's brow furrowed as Sean trembled before them. "They saved us, shared their supplies with_ us_..." He met Logan's stare. "Do with him what you wish." Logan nodded grimly, Rogue already knowing to turn away.

"Kids, squeamish." He raised his claws. "This is your cue." Sean shook his head, tripping backwards to get away from him.

"Please, don't do this. I... I didn't mea-" His head was lopped off in one, clean stroke. Cheyenne hid her face in her sister's shirt, but she didn't flinch at all.

"Now, nobody will have to deal with him." Was all he said, retracting his claws. He placed a hand on Rogue's shoulder as he passed to go grab something to burn him with.

* * *

The sun was setting. Mara had an old record player of her parents'. The kids were huddled around, listening to any music they could think of. He was settled in a tree, looking out over the clear land as everyone entertained themselves. Grey was showing C about gun handling, again. Mara was finishing up some laundry. And Sun, Sun was practicing with her sword in the grass.

A rapier, Logan recognized. And she was positively lethal with it. She could dispatch people along with the dead and never reload. _'Good thinkin' girl.'_ He thought, feeling guilty as he spied on her. She was so graceful, fluid. She had long limbs for not being all that tall. Everyone was taller than him, anyways. What he lacked in height he made up for in body.

She was like a ballerina, except one that could kill or maim you. He jumped down with approval, eyeing her casually as she continued practicing. "Breathe a little more, chin higher. Otherwise, spot on." She glared at him until she realized it was all sound advice.

"Familiar with swords?" She asked, controlling her breathing.

"Familiar with self defense." He fixed, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Could you teach Rogue? I want her learnin' how to defend herself, against the dead _or_ otherwise." She nodded, anger igniting her when she remembers that creep touched her little sister. Logan tried not to study the freckles multiplying across her chest due to the sun.

He knew she could've done a number of things to stop him, but she was afraid of causing trouble and being thrown out. He wanted her to learn how to defend herself confidently. She nodded after a moment. "Sure, it'd be a good idea. Not everyone can use a gun when it comes down to it." She looked at his hands, seemingly pondering what his claws felt like. "A sword or even a stick, one can learn to defend themselves and others." Logan nodded in agreement.

He didn't want her to become a child soldier, he just wanted her to feel safe. "Thanks, Sunny." She chuckled, tossing dark hair in a long braid.

"How'd you know I'm a Sunny?" His grin widened.

"Had a feelin'."

* * *

"How do you do it?"

Eli watched from beneath dark, shaggy hair as her face went chillingly impassive. Then, she jabbed the staff into the eye socket of a walker, struggling to get under the fence. "Do_ what_?" She drawled, wiping at her forehead with a gloved arm. It'd been a week and a half since Logan and Rogue turned up to the farm with Sun and Grey. It already felt like they'd been there forever.

Time was marching on, but the area didn't show any indication of a fall coming. Rogue's hair was just starting to tease her shoulders, curling from the uncharacteristic humidity. Her charcoal grey t-shirt was tucked into high-waist, dingy, black jeans. Mottled with cuts and rips, banded with garters of knives and crowbars. She and Eli were on the edge of the grounds, and it was always smart to be armed.

They were safe, but there was always one, crafty dead. Connecticut wasn't like New York, permeated by a cloud of rot. Of death. Of decay. But, the deads' numbers were growing, outside the slightly reinforced fence. They used to never see a walker. Now, three or four a week. Rogue sees the pattern. Every time someone dies, the devil get's another soldier.

"That." Eli tried not to hurl at the scent of slowly decaying skin. This world was almost too much for him, sometimes. Why did certain people turn certain colors. Why did their eyes go milky? Why do they still eat, even till the guts burst from inside them? He just didn't understand.

"Ah just go somewhere else in my head..." Rogue admitted, finding pleasure in her convenient half truth. Logan was the only person she explained her mutation to in-depth. He was a mutant and he was haunted by his mind, too. They would not understand. Eli steeled his face and tried to imagine it. They wouldn't be on Briar Farm forever, they would have to outrun the dead.

He didn't want to think about it, nothing was surviving outside their little hub. Cheyenne was green, but determined to be brave and learn anything Logan or Rogue tried to show them. They were peculiar, but she liked them all the same. Far more than she ever liked Sean, even before he violated her. Now, he was gone.

Eli watched as the zombie went still, a beanie failing to keep dark locks out of his eyes. He was a slight boy, able to share some of the clothes Rogue thrifted by eye sight. He shrugged his Deftones long sleeve around himself. Cheyenne shivered, wishing she'd thrown a cardigan over the black tank top she'd thrown on. She watched as Rogue threw her hair into a short ponytail.

"If you ever get cornered by one, _head_. With whatever you got. Through the eye," Rogue mimicked with the staff. "You'll live to see another day." They both nodded dumbly, able to see that Rogue's life before the Event had been very different from theirs.

"Right."

Logan and Sun watched in the distance. "She really likes you both." She commented after a moment. "She was more anxious before you came." Logan smiled warmly.

"She's a good kid." He frowned when her face didn't lighten.

"That's what I worry about. She's soft, Logan. Always had been." She hugged herself, her gaze solemn. "I didn't think she'd make it through losing the family."

"But she _did_," He pressed, gripping her arm softly. "Everyone's tougher than they realize, Chey included. And, she's got you. I know you take care of her." Sun only sighed, none of it felt like enough when there was somebody depending on you.

"Yeah, I know. I'm really glad they have each other." He nodded, choosing not to say anything else as they watched the kids.


	8. Yesterday

_Retirement seemed like the destination he'd been grinding towards for his entire life. Then, the world ended. He'd served the police force for over twenty five years. He'd trained and mentored the rookie beat cops, he did his part to try and keep the at risk cases he encountered off the street. Dixon Grey wasn't perfect. In fact, fifty four years on earth pretty much promised that. But, he tried to be a good man. _

_And, trying had to count for something. His partner had to think so, an Italian American cop twenty years his junior. Honest. Courageous. A good man. But, he was too young to have a family. He knew Grey, his wife, and their young son was at home amidst the chaos. The chaos that was spilling into their police departments. People in control of themselves were rioting, the seemingly dead tearing into the living. _

_"Go." He urged the pepper-haired man with tears in his eyes. He's terrified, the gun clacking as bodies pressed against the windows. Night had fallen, it was too hard to tell if they were the living or the infected. They hadn't seen their superiors or the rest of the squad in hours. The scanners were muffled sounds and screaming amongst silence. _

_This was the end of everything they knew, even as they desperately tried to hold out in their station. "Monica, Joey. They need you." Grey had been wracking his brain for a way to get to them, but he couldn't leave his partner behind to die. _

_"But-" _

_"No buts." He cut in as glass began to shatter. Grey maybe had time to swing by the armory and slip out. "This could be the last time you get a chance to see them." He smiled sadly, his dark bushy eyebrows furrowing. "My folks are all the way in VA. We both know that-" _

_"Don't talk that way, Randall." The man scolded, his adrenaline pumping as bodies staggered in. _

_"Your family is here. The police, our paycheck, our superiors..." The building rocked with a distant explosion. "They don't exist anymore. They do." He knew what he'd find there would probably be worse than his station, but he has to find out if he can save them. Without turning back, Grey tore towards the back of the building, gun shots sounding behind him. _

Logan stared at the small child in his arms. If he had to guess, she was maybe six months old. Chubby cheeked, already crawling. He doesn't want to think about the fate that befell her mother or siblings. He sighs, adjusting the child in a more comfortable position on his arms. "Rhode Island... Small state. Small resources. It took hours for..." He cut himself off, dragging on the cigarette Logan graciously gifted him.

Three weeks had passed since Logan and Rogue had come, and it felt like three months. Over time, Logan found Grey to be a man who's company he could stand. There wasn't a whole lot different between them. "Joey had turned. I didn't find Monica's remains." He finished, ripping the bandaid off. It didn't hurt any less, but they were gone. They weren't coming back. And, everyone had lost someone like this.

Logan pulled off his cowboy hat out of respect, his dark eyes focusing on Rogue's figure on the horizon. Girl's hair was getting too damn long. "Lost my whole school. Old friend, he ran a school for disadvantaged youths and I helped him out there." Grey could certainly see his strange way with the young ones. Both Eli and Cheyenne really liked him despite his gruff demeanor. As rough as he acted, he had a heart of gold.

"I'm sorry." Is all the former cop murmured. Logan looked out, Sun and Mara laughing and hanging some laundry up to dry. Rogue was trying to demonstrate what she'd learned of staff play from Sun to Eli and Cheyenne. They were nearing mid October based on Logan's educated guess and the color of the leaves. The cold was gonna knock them on their asses, soon. All things considered, they were doing well supplies wise. But, there was always somewhere to scavenge in New York.

Connecticut, not so much. They would have to go farther and look for longer. He's thankful now for Rogue's obsessive foraging. Her good eye could at least help the young ones stay warm.

"At least we've found each other." Logan commented distantly, his mind wandering to what would happen if another group ever discovered this farm. He'd do what he had to.

* * *

"Sit still," Logan cautioned, examining her growing hair and split ends. In a quick motion he sliced claws through it. It was above her shoulders again, framing a freckled covered face. She took a hair tie off her wrist and put half of her short locks in a bun.

"Thanks." She said, passing a mirror on the porch to examine his work. She shrugged into a grey hoody and slipped a thin, black jacket on over it. Logan still wondered how the young ones managed to be stylish post apocalypse. He looked up towards the sky, a dark blue flannel flapping in the wind. It wasn't late, but the sun was already overhead. It would be sunset, soon.

The days were getting shorter and shorter. He watched as she grabbed onto the staff Sun had been training her with. "What're you off to?" The girl had been itching to go on a scavenging trip. They were okay food and water wise, but as far as weapons and medicine went they were low. They were always low. They were in a rural area, they didn't have the luxury they had in Bayville.

He knew she was getting a little restless, but she had a lot more training to do before she came on a trip. And, they needed to try and conserve gas. "Practicin'." She answered nonchalantly. He eyed her, his brow already furrowed in lines.

"You all don't go too far. Biters been showin' up..." He watched the girl's face blanch, and he was satisfied. He never wanted her to get too used to them. One scratch, one bite, for her one_ touch_ could be the end. He wanted her safe and okay. And, though he liked them all, he didn't want other kids getting her into trouble.

Cheyenne was an angel, even more obedient than Rogue. But, Eli was another story. Logan could see it in his eyes, there was a trouble in him. One he was sure he couldn't hold against the boy, but Rogue had troubles of her own. And she was_ his_ responsibility.

* * *

_"Do it, honey. You have to.." Everything was going fine. Sure, Victor and Eli had lost their father in the riots. The best they could hope for him was death, not the zombification they were seeing on their block. But now, their mother wouldn't get in the car with them. The older of the two stared at her, watching as she clutched an arm. 'She can't be bitten... What will we-' _

_"Mom, what do you mean-" Victor tugged his little brother back, grudgingly. He couldn't deal with losing their father, he would lose it after this. He stared at her worn face, how her dark hair still looked so nice despite the madness around them. Neat and pinned in a bun. Fires and smog raged around them as people screamed. Soon, the military would blockade the area. "Mom, just come on-" _

_"I'm bit, sweetie." Her eyes shut like she can't even believe it, she reveals the gouge of flesh missing on her forearm. A tear slips out of Victor's eye. His mother thought he was such a soft, thoughtful saint. The gentle one in comparison to moody Eli. She had no idea how he got them off the reservation. What he did to other people to help them survive. And he hates himself for knowing now, she'll never find out. And he's relieved. "I can't put you guys at risk, I..." _

_"Etsi..." Victor whispered, his hair blowing in the wind. Eli just shook his head. He was sixteen. School and his social life were painful enough with the end of the world. First his father, now her?_

_"No..." He began, his eyes going black. "It doesn't matter. You can come and we'll find someone who can treat you-" He shook his head violently. His lips pulled into a snarl and he yanked from his brother, again. _

_"You guys have to leave, before you cannot get out of the city." Tears were cascading down her face, now. She knew this had been impossible. But, it was the only way. Eli began yelling when his brother tugged him back. He wiggled free, shooting his sibling a seething look. _

_"Don't you touch me." _

_"El-" _

_"It's the only way, baby..." She said, taking his hands in her own. They were still so soft. "Please... Get in the car, Elliot." She never called him that. Ever. _

_"Don't do this." He said, looking at her beneath a shag of dark hair. She grabbed his face tight and placed a huge kiss on his head. "Mom, ple-"_

_"I love you, Elliot Christopher. Now get in the damn car." Shaking, Victor pulled his brother and stuffed him inside. He looked back at his mother, wondering if this was the price for all the shitty things he'd done in his life. Was this penance? It should be him dying alone, without his family. Not his saint of a mother. "Now you, Victor..." She shut her eyes. _

_A car crashed into a flipped vehicle behind them. Every second that passed, everything became more dangerous. "You have to do one last thing. One thing I know only you can do, because I can't do it..." He shook his head, seeing the haunted look in his own mother's eye. "Do you think you are my son, your father's son and I didn't know... What you did, how we could leave the reserved land?" _

_His blood ran cold. She'd always known who and what he was, she just loved him anyways. Father, too. "Please, Son. Atone for it. Make sure I don't become..." The thought of his mother shambling around after death made his blood spike. "Please, Victor." Eli screamed helplessly as he watched his brother raise a gun. A gun at their own mother. He didn't care if this was the world, now. He'd never forgive him. Never, ever._

_"VICTOR-"_

"Eli!" Rogue had barely ambled out of Logan's sight when Cheyenne ran to get her. Eli had had another argument with his brother and walked off, slipping through the farm's gate. She had immediately took after him despite knowing she should've gotten Logan, first. She looked at the blonde like a little sister, but she'd gotten really close with Eli really fast. She didn't want Grey or Logan on his case if he wasn't thinking straight.

She told Cheyenne to send for Sun, and if the issue wasn't remedied Logan would come (an ass chewing was better than death). He was just standing, zoning out while a horde approached him and the fence_. 'Shit,_' She cursed in her head, leaning into her former mother's psyche and swinging wildly like Sun had told her. Screaming, she jabbed the stick through a decaying woman's mouth.

Her jaw ripped off with ease, her skin a sickly blue color. One of her eyes had been lost a long time ago. Rogue tried not to stare as she tugged desperately on her weapon. "GO!" She shouted, her voice hoarse as Eli just stood there. She moved quickly when she had it freed, swinging the the stick through two walkers at once. A foul stench erupted as their innards spilled everywhere. Eli watched in awe as she dispatched the dead herself.

But soon, the crowd grew too large. One died and it seemed a few more heard the commotion. Their filthy clothes hung off in tatters. Appendages dangled awkwardly, all of them groaning. She pulled her weapon, a pistol Logan insisted she carry around outside of the house. _'It'll attract more with the sound,'_ The Logan in her head warned. She cursed, holding her stick in front of her and Eli. In a flash, a body in a white shirt crashed in front of them

_"Logan!_" His claws glinted in the sunlight as he launched himself at the roamers. Growling ferally, he went through the decay like a knife through butter. In what felt like seconds, they were all laying in ribbons at their feet. Logan shook his hands violently, trying to get the grime and the scent of rot off of him. His breaths tumbled out hard as he struggled to halt his temper. Eli was a child, but curse_ anyone_ who put Rogue in danger.

She can sense his anger as they stand in silence, the pile of walkers on the ground. Eli's breath hitched and he almost covered his mouth, looking at all the trouble he caused. "Everything okay?" Sun called through her hands, rushing towards the fence.

"Did they get through?" C called out, but Logan's stare landed on the dark haired boy. A lot of words were passing through his mind but he was careful not to say any of them. Not until the blind filter of rage left him. The boy was shaking. He knew he'd fucked up. Don't undo all the good work you've done with these people...

"Logan," Mara called out as she looked between him and the boy. "What happened?" She placed her hands on the hips of dingy, faded black jeans.

_"You two could've been killed."_ The southern teenager had never heard him sound like this, before. She sees his fingers wiggling and sees how far he's exercising his restraint. He wanted an explanation, and fast.

"We're okay." She almost whispered, watching him closely.

"I'm-"

"Why the_ fuck_ were you just standing outside the fence?" Logan pressed, a dark emotion melting into the depths of his eyes. Eli just shook, his mind blank of all words. Victor stomped over, the fringe on his burnt orange jacket swaying wildly.

"Back off," He warned in a low voice. It's the edgiest tone Rogue had heard him take, yet. He stood between Eli and Logan, his face set. He was strong built but young, woefully young. Logan doesn't think he has it in him for a second to actually come at him. But, he'd make an example if he had to. He would put his life on the line for any they all considered pack, but his duty was to _Rogue_ above all else.

She was the last of his kind, the first thing to tether him back to his humanity. And, nothing came between that. But, Eli was his blood. His entire race was massacred, then his bloodline. Nothing would get to Eli before him first.

_"Logan..."_ The wind carried Sun's voice to him. He was just a boy, even if he put Marie in danger. He tried to relax. Eli took the moment to retreat, tearing off at breakneck speed back into the farm. Grey sighed, rubbing the back of his neck in discomfort. His own son hadn't ever gotten to be his complicated age. But, he knew what he'd been through.

The wild man had half a mind to follow after him but Rogue held up her hand. _"Ah'll_ talk to him, somethin's up." She insisted. He snorted.

"Don't you get yourself killed tryin' to be somebody else's light." He barked, his voice harder than he meant it to be. "We all got demons, and we all got to focus on them." She didn't speak before she took off after her friend. Sun only sighed, eyeing the slight hole that needed work.

"I guess I'll get started on that..." Grey sighed, wondering how much wood and other things they had on hand to keep mending the fence. Victor approached Logan, his face still set firmly.

"Listen, we got into a fight and that's why he was out there." He spat, his eyes blazing. "So, if you got a problem with him, you take it up with_ me._" Logan only glared, thinking of the least words as possible to respond.

"Watch out for your kin." Was what he chose, his face like stone. He watched the tan man stalk off, most likely in search of his sibling. Logan wiped a hand over his face, the stench of death giving him a migraine. It felt like his blood was thumping in his ears. They needed to burn them and reinforce their fences. It was beginning to seem hopeless, his instinct said to run.

But how, with an infant in their care? Fragile children among them.

"He saw his mother die, you know." Was all Grey said, staring at the gore in front of them. Logan only sighed. "She got bitten when they were trying to evacuate. Find somewhere to go. Victor put her down so she didn't..." He didn't finish, contemplating if he could've done what he did. Logan chewed bale in his mouth absentmindedly.

He'd assumed bad, but even that was worse than he was expecting. He found he didn't really have words. Grey just decided to let him do whatever he wanted with that information.

* * *

"Eli!_ Wait_, danggit!" He could get out of explaining himself to Logan, but not to her. She was closing in the gap fast, the apocalypse only conditioning her to be faster. Her black, leather jacket flapped in the wind as she chased him over the farm lands. "Eli!" She caught up beside him when he doubled over, panting and sobbing hard. Rogue knew they'd all been through shit, but whatever he was doing about it was not working.

Then, she realized he'd never spoken of it. Not a line, a word of his life before. Not everyone was graphic or detailed, but everyone spoke of their before. Except for the two mysterious brothers. "Listen," Rogue tucked newly trimmed locks behind her ear and stared at him. "Acting like the world has always been full of the dead, it_ ain't_ workin' Elliot."

He winced at hearing his full name. "You don't get it." He mumbled, but Rogue only gestured to her head.

"Probably got the best shot." He only sighed, the memories clearly torturing him. "It matters. You need to talk about it. Or next time, ya become biter fodder. I ain't riskin' my life again!" He hung his head, avoiding misty eyes at all costs.

"I _hate him_, Rogue." Was all he said, a darkness washing over his face. His soul. Everything. Rogue could only stare at him. "I hate him. _I hate him_ and he's_ all_ I have." Rogue settled into the grass as she stared at the figures of adults on the horizon, examining the fence.

"Who?" Eli sniffed and sat beside her, pulling his beanie off in frustration.

"My brother." Rogue didn't speak again, hoping he would continue to clarify. What was more important than family in this world? Logan was her family. They had the luxury of having their blood with them, but he didn't seem to take advantage of it. His breath hitched suddenly as he stared, hands gripping his burgundy shirt tight. "H-He _killed_ her. He just killed our mom, just like that! Like it was_ nothin_g." She looked at him with sad eyes beneath silvery bangs.

"She was bitten, wasn't she?" He let his silence answer.

"It didn't matter. If he loved her, he wouldn't have been able to do it." He turned away from Rogue angrily, tears burning his eyes. "I've always been the black sheep. For being like you, for being_ darker._ Maybe, I just fit into this world. Maybe Vic belongs here most of all." Rogue frowned.

"El, he_ loved_ your mom so much he _had_ to do it. No matter how bad it hurt." His stare was anchored on the soil beneath them. "You see what's out there. What's left. What they are. The greatest gift you can give to someone is an escape from_ that._" Rogue looked down to a thread fraying on her glove. "You gotta pray to have that strength later. But, Ah know better than anyone that feelin's aren't that simple." She certainly felt that less would drive her crazy.

He fiddled with a blade of grass between his fingers. He knew it was irrational, but he still hated Victor no matter how hard he tried not to. And, he still saw his mother's face out there. Among the sea of dead. That, he kept to himself. Rogue was all he had and he couldn't have her thinking he was any less stable than she already did. "Give it time, Eli. Let yourself go through what ya need to go through."

He knows she's speaking. Doing her very best to comfort him. But all he can think about is the deafening bang he heard through the car window.


	9. Stalked

_Sun never thought she was mother material. She did not like kids or things much younger than her, she never had. She spent her early years crammed around small children, too many. Until her adoptive family had their own daughter. She never knew what white guilt panic led two white bread farmers to adopt a Korean refugee. She was grateful, and she loved them. But they always seemed to have enough troubles of their own with their son._

_Ironically, his name was Gabriel. Gabriel Town, with a halo of golden hair. And eyes bluer than the arctic. He sure looked like an angel, but he was rotten inside. A few years older than Sun, he tormented her entire childhood until his sibling was born. Then, she was the object of his rage. A blood sibling to steal the attention away from the little psychopath. _

_He started using the same year Cheyenne was born. And then, it seemed neither parent had enough time for the child brought into their home, or the child they gave life. It was all arguments and treatments for Gabriel. Rehab for Gabriel. Gotta go to work and then check on Gabriel. Sun fed Cheyenne. Clothed her. Bathed her. Looked after her and protected her with all her free time. _

_She was more a mother to that girl than Cynthia. She would never stand up against her husband, let alone her tyrant son. _

_"We bring a little orient into the house..." Clint had said, the girl barely eight years old. "She gonna know how to handle a gun, be tough." He looked at her, a cigar burning in his already wrinkling lips. She stared, her grasp on english rudimentary at best. She would learn. "Not bringing no mixed, gook babies in this plantation house..." He mumbled, more to himself than anyone. He showed her the gun. _

_For all the neglect, for all the transgressions, Sun regretted not being able to save her adoptive parents. She thanked god every day that she still had Cheyenne. But, when her brother's precious outside finally matched the inside, she could not say she was sorry to put one between his eyes before they left. _

She watched now as Rogue tried to get the awkward crossbow to settle comfortably on Cheyenne's shoulder. "Straightin' your back, now lift your chin a little." She instructed, following the sight of the weapon. The girl nodded shakily, trying her hardest to aim the weapon at something. "Now, try _there_..." She released the trigger and watched, the arrow at least hitting the tree.

She smiled from beneath wavy, blonde hair. She was getting a little tan from the sun, too. But she didn't have as many freckles as her older sister. She was shrugged in a thick, grey zip up hoodie and thick knit leggings. And fuzzy boots Mara had gifted her. "I think I did it!" Rogue smiled. Anyone who tried was capable of learning.

"You_ did_ do it. Good job, Cheyenne." Rogue zipped up her black leather jacket more and adjusted the red scarf Logan had given her. Sun smiled, glad to see that Logan had been right about somethings. She rubbed her fingers over the black and white plaid poncho she had wrapped around her. She watched Rogue, who seemed so much older than she was. But she was only her sister's age._ 'I guess everyone's been forced to grow up.'_ She thought as the stripe banged mutant sat in the grass.

She watched her stare follow the horizon. "Logan told me you were in the foster care system." The slender woman says after a while. She regrets it when Rogue's posture stiffens. _"Only_ because I'm a foster kid, too." She clarified quickly, and Rogue relaxed. The mutant knew from experience anyone could be an orphan, but she hadn't expected Sun to be. She turned and examined her face.

Rogue nodded slowly. "Yeah, Ah was." Sun wasn't really sure what to follow with next, so she didn't speak.

* * *

Logan examined the reinforced fencing, his suntanned arms crossed over his chest. He was shrugged only in a wife beater and jeans, but the temperature had been dropping. "Wouldn't hurt to do one more layer of somethin'." He suggested, staring at the ground. "I may wanna sweep the area around here weekly or so. Don't want whatever _they've_ got seepin' into this good ground. Do a burning." C stared at him, a black hoody and faded, camo cargo pants banded with weapons.

He took everything Logan and Grey had to say as gospel. They had a wealth of knowledge on how to survive, and he was among the next generation to be surviving this life, he'd have to take over some day. He stared, his face impassive as Logan continued explaining.

"Sounds like a good idea. C and I can pull some materials for the fence." He looked up at the rapidly setting sun and cursed. Days didn't seem to last anymore, and the temperature was dropping fast. "We may want to start planning for another good run before it gets really cold out here." Logan's brow furrowed.

They had not been having the wealth of luck he and Rogue were having in New York. Logan felt he should go on runs, but Grey felt it would leave the farm way too open. Rogue was a strong forager and wanted to go, but she wasn't going anywhere with him. They could never decide on a group and a direction to head in. All it would take was an illness to devastate all of them, except Logan.

They needed more weapons (though, they were creative with melee weapons), ammo, and medicine. Any first aid kits, alcohol, peroxide, medicine. All of it like gold. Luckily, there had been no accidents on the farm. But he knew it only took one, the thought kept him up at night. He sighed. He and Grey would pick their brains about it again that night.

"C'mon." He half growled. "I smell the girls cookin' somethin' good. We'll mull it over on full stomachs." C grinned, staring at Logan's faded cowboy hat.

"Full stomachs, full brains."

xxx

Logan sat at the long, vintage dinner table with Rogue on one side, Sun on the other. He was always fortunate he'd landed among a group of ladies who could spin straw out of gold. Tonight was mashed potatoes (a staple nobody complained about), vegetable and rice sushi rolls, and a delicious, BLT croissant. It sure beat driving around for hours every day.

But a bad feeling and some noise outside made him abandoned his plate. "Logan?" Rogue looked up fearfully, Cheyenne and Eli beside her. Grey stood, then C and victor as everyone began murmuring. Mara rose and grabbed Evelyn, trying not to shake.

"What is it, Lo'?" The red head called out. He was sniffing, positioning his head differently to hear.

"Everyone, you stay here." He commented, his dark gaze lingering on Rogue. "Young ones_, especially._" Mara felt her blood run ice cold. She didn't think walkers could breach the fence as it was. Humans, however... She anchored herself beside Grey as Sun rose to find her rapier. "You_ too,_ Sunny." Logan flashed his claws for emphasis. "I'll be fine."

"You let us know if-"

"There ain't a lot of 'em." Logan interrupted. "Maybe, two. I got this." C nodded, watching in awe as Logan slipped out into the darkness. Minutes later, he returned to the door after some gunshots were heard. He tossed two semi automatic looking guns on the ground, his shirt littered with bullet holes. Sun and Cheyenne paled, even as the skin was healed under. "Got 'em." He rasped, everyone abandoning the table to see.

There was a brown haired man with a receding hairline, glasses, and a thick mustache. Looked older than Logan seemed but younger than Grey. The other man was younger and rodent faced. They were already hogtied and thrown unceremoniously on the ground. A fire lit in Mara's eyes. She never respected thieves.

"Y'all was just gonna_ take_ what wasn't yours?" She accused. Grey stood beside her, the look in his blue eyes dark.

"I _wanted_ to carve 'em." Logan admitted with a shrug. "But, this ain't my farm. Ain't my group." He turned to the silver haired man. "So, what do we do with them?" They were dressed in what seemed to be lab coats, notating them as some sort of doctors or scientists. But, Mystique was hissing in Rogue's head. They could be with the people responsible for this.

Scientists didn't seem much more trustworthy than the military, at this point. Not to her. Mara struggled with their inherent usefulness. They brought military grade weapons to their farm, they didn't mean well.

"Lady of the house?" Grey growled, thinking about what would've happened if they sprayed the house with Evelyn in it. He wasn't feeling very merciful today. Mara only frowned.

"They say it brings bad fortune, _dishonor_ to kill others on your land." Victor finally spoke. "My people, did." He knew better than to say something during Sean's trial, and truth be told he deserved it. But out there, everyone was trying to survive. What would they do if they had to? There was a difference between protection and and vengeance, and vengeance wouldn't serve them well. "Take what they can harm us with and send them off." He suggested.

Eli only sucked his teeth, watching from behind with Rogue and Cheyenne. "We take their guns, how do they survive out there? That's murder,_ too_." He pointed out matter-of-factly. Victor just stifled a sigh, folding large arms.

'W-Wait," One of the trespassers began._ "Please_, don't leave us to di-"

"You were gonna spray this house with bullets and take Mara's farm." Sun said, her voice cold. "Why should we even leave you with a pulse?"

"We were just gonna see if the house was occupie-" The older tried, but Logan interrupted.

"Yeah right. I heard ya sneakin' around out here, in formation. You guys are military scientists,_ aren't you?_" Neither of them spoke. Grey moved closer and stooped to the captives, a rueful smile on his face.

"Got a bunch of jar heads around here, waiting to storm us?" He asked, his voice like gravel. The younger of the two shook.

"N-No, ple-"

"Put 'em in the barn." Mara commanded. Logan watched as C stood beside her. "Take all their weapons. Release them in morning. Whatever happenens to them is not on us." Grey seemed satisified with that, pulling one to their feet. Logan grabbed the other.

"I'll keep watch all night." He volunteered with a sneer. "Won't do nothin', not unless they give me a reason." And secretly, he was hoping they would. "Rogue, help the ladies of the house clear the table, please." Rogue rose obediently as Victor and Sun turned.

"Cheyenne, go help." Sun instructed, her eyes on the seized weapons. They would've killed them in seconds.

"Eli," Victor began but his brother only rolled his eyes, following after them. The dark haired man moved forward, his eyes solemn. But it was a dark haired woman who spoke. One Logan had barely seen around. She was petite but in exquisite shape. Afro Latina, if Logan had to guess. Her skin was the color of red clay, and her hair brown, wiry curls.

She was few of words, constantly slipping out to forage on her own and only seen talking to Sun.

"SCAR-L." She said, her south american accent heavy. Logan and Grey turned their eyes to her. Yup, military. Logan had heard her called Vera a few times by Sun. "Tommy Gun. All that ammo..." Her hazel eyes met Logan's black ones. "There are military nearby. They could know about this farm, and if that's the case..." She folded her arms. "They want it."

Grey clutched a fist. He may have been police, but he didn't like the military. Definitely not now. "You military?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Venezuelan army." Logan nodded, silently praising her.

"Good eye, Venezuela. I'm inclined to agree." He looked back towards the farm's hostages. "Maybe we can talk about that." Victor shocked him by moving forward. He seemed a gentle, solemn man. He believed in the way of his people, and he condoned violence less than C. So, why offer himself to an information retrieval mission?

_His father was the great Red Cloud. And his family wouldn't live like this. Not anymore. There was nothing in Wyoming but casinos and heroin addicts. Water rations and baths from water in a well. No more. _

_This was their land. And if they had to poison and torture their own to have a better life, they would do it. All of the addicts were supplied by the work Victor and his father did, moving the weight they could to save up to leave the reservation. Eli and their mother was never to know. But, slinging wasn't enough. Drugs and alcohol were the only money making opportunities out there. _

_You didn't just have to sell, you had to protect your market. And in the art of torturing, you got the results you wanted. _

_"Fear," His father had told him once. Only sixteen, along to watch his father torture an associate who got greedy. Three of his teeth were already pulled out, the man only groaning unintelligibly. "Is not enough. This man." He gestured to his once friend, silver long hair down his back. "Worked with me. For me. He knew to fear me, but he didn't. Now, he will know it." _

_In a lightning fast motion, he wrenched the pliers out of his mouth with another tooth. Victor just watched. He was the oldest. He had to protect Eli. He had to do this, even if it made him sick. _

_"Or we die here, son." Staying on this cramped, infested reservation was not an option. He accepted the pliers from his father's hands._

"I... Have experience with finding information." Logan studied his face carefully, admiring the honesty but not sure how to feel.

"Come along then." Was all he said, sending the other old man a look. There was lots they all didn't know. He was hauling one scientist and the ex cop the other, both resigned and not wiggling. Something smelled about all this, Logan just couldn't be sure what. "What's your name?" He asked suddenly as they approached an empty barn. It was directed at the Native American beside him.

"Victor?" He responded distantly. Logan handed off the other hostage to Grey and hung outside with him.

"Your spirit name." Victor blinked. "I don't look it, but I been around a long time. Nightwolf. You seem more traditional than the young one. He's like Rogue. Modern, or whatever. You appreciate the old ways." The young man, about twenty or twenty one, did not appreciate how easily he gleaned that information. Logan had always been more than observant.

_"Spiritwolf._" He answered quietly. "I am supposed to sense the spirit in all things. Even the earth." His boot scuffed a rock. "Even the_ dead._" His dark hair fell in front of his face as Logan pawed a cigarette.

"So, why's your spirit wounded?" He forced the man to meet his intense stare. "How do you have experience 'getting information'. You don't look that old." His stare dropped, obviously guilty. He knew about the mother thing, but what else was it?

"How do you think our family _got off_ the reservation?" He answered bitterly. "Hard work? No. Father and I poisoned people. Poisoned people and sold parts of our soul." Logan knew enough what that meant.

"Everyone's done something." He answered cryptically. The gruff man's face was blank. "Go on. We aren't torturing them for information. Either there's nothing, or they'll lie if they're military. Be more scared of those boys than us. Don't worry, I got a few tricks up my sleeve as well." Victor frowned, but if there were others and they never came back, they'd probably still show up.

He buried his hands into the pockets of his suede jacket as Logan disappeared inside the barn.


End file.
